Enough for Now
by WhiteViolet
Summary: Hermione has a dark past that she has kept a secret. Nobody knows, until Professor Snape finds her suffering a panic attack outside his classroom. Can he put her back together, or is she unable to be fixed? Takes place after the war; Hermione returns for her Seventh Year. A/U.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Please be aware that this story starts off pretty dark. There is mention and mild description of rape and abuse throughout. Mild language. Don't read if this bothers you! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I'm just playing on J.K. Rowling's playground!**

**Now, on to the story.**

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><p>Severus was in his office grading the essays of insolent third years when he heard it. It was loud and shrill, and he hated the sound of it. There was so much pain and terror in that scream that Severus got out of his chair and went to find the source, if only to make it stop.<p>

He didn't have to go far, for nearly right outside his classroom was a girl, curled into a ball on the floor, gripping her hair and screaming like a banshee. Her back was to him, so he couldn't see her face. Severus _really_ didn't want to deal with this, but he desperately needed her to stop; he could already feel another headache coming on.

Sighing, he went to her, glaring all the while. She seemed to be completely unaware of his presence; he could still leave. But… looking at her more closely, he could see that she was shaking and covered in sweat. Her hair was disheveled, and she was panting when she wasn't shrieking. Severus almost felt bad for her.

Moving to see her face, he realized who it was: Hermione Granger.

If he was really honest with himself, Severus had always liked Miss Granger. She was eager to learn, and her desire for knowledge was intensified by the lack thereof in her classmates. Granted, there weren't many this year; few students had returned to Hogwarts for their seventh year. The school was more or less put back together, with only small projects awaiting completion. Major things had somehow been finished in time for the new school year, much to his dismay; Severus had been hoping for a year off.

Not to anyone's surprise, Miss Granger was the only one of the Golden Trio to have returned that year. N.E.W.T.s were being offered the next summer for those who had fought in the war and did not wish to return. Severus didn't know what Potter and Weasley were up to, nor did he particularly care. It was better for her in a way, he supposed, seeing as she didn't have the two copying her every homework assignment. But her loneliness was also visible. She didn't talk to anyone. In the Great Hall, she sat by herself, and left as quickly as she could. The girl seemed so withdrawn. He had been worried about her since term began.

Now, looking down at her, Severus hesitated. He'd never been the most comforting of people; he usually did more harm than good. But he had to do _something_. He couldn't just walk away, not now that he could see how bad it was.

"Miss Granger?"

No response. It was as if he weren't even there. He tried again, but still got nothing. He was at a loss; he hadn't ever seen a student in such a state. Would it be better to take her to the hospital wing, or figure it out on his own? Unable to think of a way to get her to Poppy without having to deal with it anyway, he knelt down beside her. Severus slowly reached a hand out to lay on her arm, and as soon as he made contact, she froze.

Then her arms were around his waist. She was crying into him, and he could feel her trembling. She hadn't even looked to see who was with her; did she know it was him, or was she just looking for comfort from anyone? Taking in her state, he decided she was probably too distraught to care who it was at this point.

Gradually, her breathing slowed, nearing a normal rhythm. He was contemplating pulling her off of him when it began to speed up again, followed by an odd snapping sound. What _was_ that? It was coming from behind him, but they were alone in the corridor. His mind was running through all the possibilities when Miss Granger cried out; just a short, high-pitched sound. The snapping had ceased, at least, and she was relaxing again.

After her breathing had been measured for a few minutes, Severus cleared his throat.

She moved away from him slowly before looking up at him. Her brown eyes were puffy from crying, and tears were still trickling down her cheeks. As recognition and fear ran across her face, her features settled on something akin to shame before she hung her head.

"Professor... I'm horribly sorry you had to see that. It doesn't usually happen this way."

"What do you mean by that, Miss Granger?"

"Well, I can usually feel it coming, but sometimes, it just hits me."

Severus raised an inquiring eyebrow. What on _earth_ was she going on about?

"It was a panic attack," she clarified.

He continued to look down at her. Prolonging the silence almost always led to more information. Miss Granger did not disappoint.

"I have PTSD, sir."

Severus wasn't surprised by this; most of the students who had fought in the war had some sort of stress issue. Miss Granger had been on the front lines after being on the run for almost a year. If anybody had a disorder, it would be her.

"From the war, I presume?"

The girl looked back up at him before shrugging.

"I suppose some of it could be attributed to the war, yes, but not much of it."

Now he was taken slightly aback. Possibilities of the darkest variety began flashing in his mind, and he was disgusted by all of them.

"Would you like to talk about it, Miss Granger?"

Severus was almost shocked to ask so willingly, but he found that he really wouldn't mind talking to her if she so desired. Since the war had ended, he'd been able to start being himself again rather than a double agent. His Occlumency wasn't necessary; he could be more open with people than he had been. He wanted to, to some degree, but he wasn't really sure he knew how. And, in truth, he did enjoy his effect on the students. It made his days slightly more bearable. He liked teaching, just not the idiots that had been pushed on him these past few years, and he was sure there were more to come.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Severus looked back down at Miss Granger. She looked surprised by his invitation, but she nodded. Rising, Severus offered his hand to help the girl up. She took it with a quiet 'thank you' and he hauled her to her feet, concerned when she almost fell back down. He put an arm around her back for support in case she really did fall, and he could feel her shaking.

He led her back to his office and sat her in one of the chairs in front of his desk. He summoned his house elf, Tinky, and ordered tea for the two of them. Hopefully, it would calm her some.

It was then that he noticed the blood dripping from… well, where? It seemed to be coming from somewhere on her right arm, but there were no injuries he could see on the part of arm not covered by her robes.

"Miss Granger, your arm."

Startled, she looked down, likely noticing for the first time. She blushed.

"It's nothing."

Not convinced, Severus looked again before he saw it. In truth, he was surprised that he'd never noticed it before, but better late than never.

"Don't lie to me, Miss Granger," he snapped. "Remove your glamour."

She started chewing her lip as she nodded. Pulling back her sleeve, she removed it, and he fought the urge to suck in a breath. There were marks from wrist to elbow on the inside of her arm, and one about halfway down was the cause of the bleeding. She was wearing a rubber band, and it was wet with her blood.

Severus almost wished that he hadn't asked her to remove it. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what had brought her to this, but he could tell that she needed somebody to know, and he'd already gone and offered. Why he did these things to himself, he would never know, but he kept doing it. Oh, well; maybe he'd learn one of these days.

Not sure why he was doing it the Muggle way, Severus rose to get her a bandage. When he knelt down in front of her to wrap it around her arm, she sighed, and a lone tear fell.

"It helps. I know it doesn't look like it, but it does. If I feel the panic coming, I snap it against my wrist until I'm sure I won't be pulled into it. It keeps me grounded…most of the time."

He nodded, understanding vaguely. He had limited knowledge of the disorder, and was aware that there were many things that could be done to fight off an attack. He realized then that he was still knelt in front of her, and he moved to sit in the chair next to hers, turning it so he was facing her.

"Um, Professor?"

He rose an eyebrow, looking at her expectantly.

"It's just… nobody knows about this. Not here, not at home, not anywhere. Could we keep it between us?"

Severus thought about this for a moment. Was she really _this_ alone? He couldn't help but wonder how she was so alone that she was coming to him. _Him_, of all people.

"Of course. You can tell me anything, Miss Granger, and it will be kept in confidence."

He really didn't know why he was making himself available to her. Sure, he was the only one aware of her condition, but he could make her tell Poppy. She was sick; she probably needed more help than he could give her. But… there was a part of him that just wanted to do it himself; that little bit just wanted to be the one to make her pain go away. She deserved better. Miss Granger was, indeed, 'the brightest witch of her age'. The fact that she had been worn down to this point was truly sickening.

It hit him then: he cared for the girl. He wasn't sure how much or for how long, but he was certain that this was the case. But, nothing could come of it. He would do as he had been for the past six-and-a-half years and no more. Severus couldn't allow himself to do more because he didn't have the slightest idea what would come of it. There was certainly no way in hell this girl could return his sentiment, so he would do what he'd always done and ignore whatever feelings he may have. With that said, he could at least be there for her, as a guardian of sorts. He wouldn't allow any harm to come to her as long as he could help it.

She gave him a small, grateful smile before taking a breath.

"Okay. I think I would like to tell you, if that's alright."

She worried her lip between her teeth for a moment before continuing.

"The bastard was a heavy drinker, and an angry one at that. He had nothing to live for but the drink. Until she came into his life, he had no inclination to change his ways. He saw her through the window of the bar before she entered, and he ordered her a drink when she came in. Eventually, she came and sat near him. They talked for a very long time before he realized that he cared about her. He had just met her, but he wanted to make her happy. In about a year, he had sobered up enough that she married him. They were happy together. Really and truly happy.

"He had visions of the perfect family. A little boy would be his firstborn, with a younger sister to protect. When his wife became pregnant, they were elated. He couldn't wait for his son.

"The day the child was born was a day of celebration. There had never been happier parents in the world, until the man held his firstborn in his arms. He looked at the child with a father's love before he looked. _Really _looked. The child in his arms was a girl.

"So it wasn't his perfect vision. He could live with that. He _would_ live with that. The first three years were good, but then the girl's younger sister was born. Here he was, with his wife and two daughters. By the time the eldest was five, he had begun to loathe her. She was all that stood between him and the family he had always wanted. He was drinking again, but he wasn't nearly as far gone as he'd once been.

"One night, he was sitting in the library, alone in front of the fire. His glass of scotch was sitting on a bookcase near the door, but he didn't want to get it. He called his older daughter, and when she came, he told her to get his drink. Wanting to please her father, she went to do as she was asked, until she realized something. The shelf was much too high. Sighing, she began to climb the shelf before reaching for the glass. Her hand hit it, and it fell to the floor and shattered.

"All of a sudden, her father was upon her. He yanked her from the shelf and onto the floor. The girl had started school, so he was sure only to bruise her torso and parts that wouldn't be seen. He looked down at her with nothing but pure hatred, and took pleasure in beating her.

"This continued until the girl was eight. One cold morning, the girl opened the door to leave for school, and she screamed. Leaning against the front door was the body of her sister, with her throat cut and blood on the ground. Her parents came running to see what was wrong. Her mother came first, and she broke down crying before she reached the door. Her father came to the door and stared down, stunned, at his dead little girl. Then he looked at his eldest. His eyes were filled with rage; if she'd been a son, this wouldn't have happened. He grabbed her arm and pulled her upstairs. He threw her down on her bed, raped her, beat her, and sent her off to school. When she got home, her sister's body was gone, her mother was curled up in bed, and her father was in the library with his scotch."

She was snapping the rubber band again, and Severus reached a long hand out and caught her wrist, stopping her from hurting herself further. She looked up at him, her brown eyes wet with tears.

"Things continued this way for about three years, until something happened. The man was in his chair by the fire in the library. She knew he'd be there, nursing his drink. Gathering her courage and her anger, she marched in and smacked the glass from his hand before taking the bottle and throwing it against the wall. His glare was murderous. Rising, he pushed her down and drew out a knife before stabbing her in the side. He called for his wife, who dragged herself out of bed. Upon her arrival, she took in the scene surrounding her. Her husband was running a bloody knife down her daughter's arm, there was scotch all over the room. She looked at her husband and sighed, indifferent to everything going on around her. Outraged at her lack of pride in what he'd done, he rushed at her, knife raised, and killed her as the girl watched in horror. The girl could only look at the way her mother's throat was slit. It was identical to the cut on her sister's throat years before. It hit her in that moment. Her father had been out drinking the night before she'd found her sister's body, and had come home angry. Her sister was a sleepwalker. Her father had killed her sister. And her mother.

"And now he was going to kill her.

"But, when he reached her, something strong and electric shot from within her. He staggered back, and as he fell, the knife fell into his chest.

"She slumped to the floor, shaking uncontrollably. She had no idea what just happened, but she did know that she had somehow just _killed_ her _father_. That night, she fled the house. She lived on the streets of her small town for months before she was found. One morning, she woke up between two buildings, and a police officer was standing over her. His eyes were full of pity as he helped her up and took her to the nearest orphanage. That's where she was when a woman came to give her a letter, and told her that what had happened with her father was real. It was normal; she was just special. When the older woman left, the girl left, too. She was back on the streets. How was she supposed to stay there when she knew what she was, but didn't know what to do about it?

"The woman found her before the school year. That was the first time she came to the Wizarding world, and she fell in love. It felt like the home she'd never really had.

"She resolved very early on that her life would be kept from everybody. She would just be a girl that nobody paid much attention to. This was a fresh start, in a brand new world that she never knew had existed.

"She was going to learn everything she could possibly learn while she was here. This was where she was going to stay; she needed to absorb knowledge. And as she learned, she noticed that it was slowly putting her together."

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><p>By the end of the tale, the girl was sobbing. Severus found himself with his hands on her arms, telling her it was alright. He couldn't believe what this girl had been through.<p>

He contemplated her story. It was a horrid tale, and he felt slightly sick to his stomach. Never, in all his years of teaching, had he considered laying hand on one of his students, not even the most dunderheaded. This girl had suffered through her father for six years, lost her sister, watched her mother die, lived on the streets, and plenty of other things since she'd come here. He couldn't help but admire her strength.

She had gone through so much already; what could he protect her from? Miss Granger was a more-than-capable witch, and Severus wasn't sure what he could do for her. If she asked for anything, he could do his best to be of service but, beyond that, he was at a loss. Maybe, though, that would be all she really needed.

With a new-found respect, Severus looked at Miss Granger, only to find her asleep, looking more peaceful than he'd ever seen her.

**A/N II: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think; this is my first fan fiction, and I would really like to know how I can improve. As of now, the plan is to keep updates on Wednesdays. Thank you again!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Alright, it's Wednesday! Time for chapter 2:)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I'm just playing on J.K. Rowling's playground.**

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><p>Hermione had left his class only minutes before it had happened. The corridor was already empty, thank Merlin, because DADA was the last class of the day. She was walking back to Gryffindor tower, but stopped abruptly. Her breathing sped, her head was swimming, and all she could see was <em>him<em>. She slumped against the wall and clamped her hands to her head.

_"'__Mione! Come upstairs. Now!"_

_Knowing she had no choice but to obey, she trudged up the stairs to her room where her father was waiting for her. Her sister had been dead for a few months, and her father had found that he liked the pain he caused by raping his remaining daughter almost every night. At first, it was just as a punishment, but soon began to occur whenever her father wanted her._

_Upon reaching her room, she knew what she would see. Her father would have his pants undone, and he would have himself aroused already. When she entered, he would hit her before throwing her down on her bed, and then he would have his way with her._

_The sight that greeted her entrance was no surprise; it was what she'd expected. As she walked farther into the room, he approached her. Grabbing her by her hair, he pulled her closer to him before bringing a fist to her gut, again and again and again. By the time he was done hitting her, she could barely breathe._

_He pushed her backwards until her legs hit the bed, and it was all she could do to keep herself from falling. Her whole abdomen hurt, and it was only going to get worse from here. Her father yanked her shirt over her head and pulled her pants down before shoving her back into the mattress. _

_His eyes glazed over as he looked her up and down. Being eight years old, her chest was still flat, but he was undeterred. If anything, he took pleasure in the reminder that she was still a child. _

_Hermione closed her eyes, and he rammed into her. It was so incredibly painful, and she didn't think she'd ever get used to it. She saw red as he thrust into her hard, squeezing her shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. When he grunted and she was filled with his release, she allowed the silent tears to fall. Her father had pulled up his pants and left almost as soon as he was done, and she knew it was only to get a drink. _

_Dressing herself, Hermione's tears turned to quiet sobs, which she was trying to muffle in her pillow. She knew she shouldn't cry, but it hurt to breathe and it hurt to walk and she didn't know what else there was to do besides wallow in self-pity._

That was when she had felt the hand on her shoulder. She turned into whoever had come to save her from the monster that was her father, seeking comfort that would leave as soon as it came. As her breathing evened, she felt the calm ease into her, but then the panic crept back in.

_He had heard her sobs. He was clomping back down the hall. He was coming back for her._

_He opened the door and leered at her before coming in. _

_"__What's the matter? You didn't like it? We could always do it again."_

_"__No, no, please, no! I can't, not again!"_

_That was the wrong thing to say. Glaring, he marched up to her and grabbed her throat, tightening his grasp. The last thing she heard before falling unconscious was her father muttering that she should just shut up and fall asleep._

The rubber band helped that time. She'd had to snap it faster and harder than normal, but she usually did with this memory. After she calmed again, someone cleared their throat, and she realized she was clutching very hard to whoever-this-was. Pulling away, she looked up into the gaze of her formidable professor. She panicked briefly before feeling ashamed that someone had seen her in such a state.

But, even after apologizing and giving a partial explanation, he hadn't sent her away. He'd invited her to talk. She'd taken him up on it, only to have her glamour discovered. As he'd bandaged her arm, he'd been… tender. In that moment, seeing him in a way she was sure no student had been able to see him before, Hermione was absolutely certain (not that she hadn't been already; of all her professors, he was the one she looked up to the most) that she could trust him with her secret. It would be okay to tell somebody all of it, and he wouldn't judge her, or look at her with pity.

And he hadn't. Even as she cried, he only held her and said kind things, and then she'd fallen asleep.

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><p>"You're awake."<p>

Hermione nodded as she stretched. Her sleep had been more restful than… ever before, as far as she could remember. She was usually plagued with nightmares, but she felt as if she had been at peace for the short while she'd been asleep.

"Thank you for helping me, Professor Snape. I…" she hesitated, trailing off.

"Out with it, Granger," her professor snarked, but without any of his usual malice.

"Well, sir, I'm not going to lie to you. I must admit I was a little surprised when it was you I was clutching to in the middle of an empty hallway."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Pleasantly surprised, of course." She said quickly. "I'm very grateful that you were there, sir; I know you didn't have to come."

"This is true. I thought about staying in here, but it was hard to mark papers with all the noise," he smirked. "But, you are welcome." He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "May I ask you something?"

Hermione stiffened, but nodded. "Yes, of course, sir."

"How on earth have you been able to hide the panic attacks for so long?"

"For the minor ones, I could just step into an alcove until it subsided. The major ones, though, come out of nowhere. I don't get them very often, and until today, I've never gotten one outside of my bed, which has a Silencing Charm, or the bathroom."

"And Potter and Weasley never noticed a thing?"

"No, sir. I didn't want them to know, so they didn't. They still don't know anything."

"But why all of the secrecy?"

"I came here already at a disadvantage as a Muggle-born; I didn't need this adding to that. Can you imagine how much worse it would have been if people knew how much he did to me, to my family?"

"Yes, I can, actually."

Hermione looked up at him in surprise. She certainly hadn't expected _that_ answer. His face was solemn, and his dark eyes were serious.

"Sir?"

He hesitated, as if he were unsure as to why he was telling her.

"I won't say anything, sir. It's the very least I can do."

Professor Snape nodded before speaking.

"Growing up, my home life wasn't particularly desirable, either. Like yours, my father was a drunk, and he also had a vile temper and a penchant for beatings. I will admit that I never had to endure much of what you did, but it wasn't pleasant. Things didn't improve when I came here; you've seen my memories. You know I was bullied."

Hermione gasped as her eyes began to fill with tears. "You mean y-you… you understand. Somebody finally understands. I mean, I know it's not quite the same, but it helps. Thank you."

She looked down and tried to get herself under control before looking back up at him. His eyes were on her, watching carefully. She realized that it hadn't been easy for him to open up to her and tell her something like that. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he felt the same.

"Miss Granger, if you don't mind my asking, why did you tell your story in third person?"

"Well, sir, I'm not really sure. Like I said before, I've never said a word about it to anybody; I suspect it was probably easier than using first person and reliving any more of it than absolutely necessary."

Severus nodded. The girl certainly shouldn't have to suffer any more than she already was. So, he decided a change in subject was in order.

"After your N.E.W.T.s, what do you plan to do?"

She looked surprised at the sudden change, and she took a moment to think about her answer.

"At some point, I think I would really like to teach, sir. But, before I do that, I need to decide _what_ to teach."

"What would you prefer?"

This question brought a slight flush to the girl's cheeks.

"I feel like I would do adequately in Arithmancy, but I would much rather Master in Potions, really."

Severus couldn't help but be surprised. Yes, he knew she had always done well in his class, but she had done so in all of her classes. He hadn't ever thought about what subject she favored, and he never would have thought it would be one of his favorites as well.

"I'm sure you will make a decent Potioneer, Miss Granger," Severus told her half-honestly. If he told the complete truth, he would have to say she would be _excellent_ in whatever field she entered.

"Thank you, sir; that's very kind of you to say."

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><p>Professor Snape had earned Hermione's utmost respect very early in her first year. Yes, he was dour, snarky, and often an outright bastard, but he was also the only teacher who had ever pushed her hard enough for her to better herself. She had grown in his class, and he deserved to be treated better than he was. As Harry and Ron had groused about and insulted him, she had always stuck up for him. It was because of him she wanted to specialize in Potions one day. He was still the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but she was sure that she wanted to study under him; she'd known that since her third year. She desperately wanted an apprenticeship with him, but he almost never gave them. It would just be amazing to learn what he had to teach. Hermione knew that she was more than capable of whatever he threw at her.<p>

Sitting before her now was her best chance at growing her mind. Her dour professor was the only Master for her. With this in mind, Hermione resolved to make him see her as who she really was, not just an insufferable know-it-all with a dark past. As she thought this, her heart sank. Wasn't that who she was? She'd done all she could to make it so, but now, she'd lost sight of herself, if she'd ever known to begin with. Sure, she was brilliant and kind, but she was damaged. She had been physically and emotionally battered, and there was no way he would want anything to do with her. He would never see her as beautiful.

_Wait, what?_

She'd always been attracted to her professor. His judgment had always mattered to her, and she hoped to earn his respect, and maybe even his trust. But never before had she wanted him to look at her in the way a man looks at a woman; as if she were the only thing in his universe. She would never have that, especially not now that he knew. To him, she was only a broken girl who needed to be fixed and sent on her way.

Hermione had so many scars, demons, and skeletons in her closet that she was sure she would never be able to be with anybody. Even if they could see past her beaten body, she wasn't sure she could let herself be happy. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been genuinely happy about anything, and the realization stung. She'd tried a few times to find somebody, but it hadn't worked out. Viktor had invited her back to the boat after the dance, and she had declined; in no way was she ready for that. She'd never kept in contact with him after that night. Things with Ron had turned out much the same way. He'd been so kind and they had been friends for years, but once they were together, she knew that they weren't compatible. All he wanted to talk about was Quidditch, and she couldn't care less about it. Even knowing that he'd become a professional player, she couldn't bring herself to be interested. He had lots of fangirls, and they were always throwing themselves at him. The few times she'd attended his games, he had made no attempt to fight them off. On top of his annoying attention-seeking, Ronald really wasn't much for intelligent conversation, and he'd always been trying to get into her knickers. She'd stayed with him for three months before finding out that he was cheating on her, which he'd claimed was only because she was such a prude.

She'd since wondered if she should have told him at least some of the truth, but she knew that she had made the right decision. If he couldn't even give her a chance without trying to force himself onto her, then she couldn't really trust him, anyway.

At least she still had Harry. He was busy with his Auror training, but they still talked often. They hadn't seen each other for a couple of months, and were looking forward to meeting at The Three Broomsticks next weekend. Ginny would be coming with him, which was great; she hadn't come back to school either, and was taking a year or two off before doing anything. Harry had told her that he was planning to propose soon, and Hermione couldn't be happier for her friends.

Neville was well. He was taking his N.E.W.T.s next summer so he could take an apprenticeship with Professor Sprout, and he was actually taking the time to study without Hermione's constant nagging. He was still seeing Luna, who was currently in Africa with her father, hunting for interesting creatures of all sorts.

She hadn't been to The Burrow since a little before the break-up, so she didn't see any of the other Weasleys very often. George was slowly putting himself back together with the support of his family, who were all still in shock after Fred's death. They needed each other, and Hermione didn't want to intrude.

Hermione realized that Professor Snape was talking to her again, and she made herself pay attention.

"Miss Granger, was there anything else you wished to discuss? It is nearly dinner time."

She worried her lip between her teeth for a moment, trying to decide if she should ask her pressing question. It was mid-November, and she needed to leave the castle on Wednesday. She would be gone all morning, and most of the afternoon, but didn't know how to ask. She'd managed every year, but she had lied about _why_ she was leaving. Professor McGonagall had never asked questions; she was, until now, the only professor who had any idea about her home life- or lack thereof. All she knew was that Hermione had been living in an orphanage, and then on the streets. She was not aware that this was still the case.

But she could ask honestly this year. She could give the real reason for her departure. And the thought warmed her for some reason. Maybe she was just tired of hiding it from everyone. It felt incredible to be released from her burden, but she also felt very vulnerable. She didn't know what her professor would do with the information, but she'd gotten this far; she may as well take another plunge into uncertainty.

"Yes, sir, there's one more thing. I need to leave the castle on Wednesday, and I was wondering if you could grant me permission."

"Before I can do that, I need to know why."

Hermione knew this, but she was still a little nervous; she couldn't help stalling.

"It's the day I found her. It was her fifth birthday when she died. Every year, I've asked Professor McGonagall with the pretense that I would be leaving for Emmie's birthday, so it wasn't technically a lie. But, now that I don't have to lie, I've decided not to."

Professor Snape seemed to consider this for a moment before responding.

"Miss Granger, I understand your need to leave, and I… appreciate your feeling that you can be honest with me. I will grant you permission to leave, but on one condition. I will accompany you, if only to make sure you return safely."

She looked at him, debating, before nodding.

"Thank you, sir. I normally leave at about eight a.m."

"Then I will see you at eight a.m. in two days' time. Let us go to dinner now, Miss Granger. You look famished."

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><p><strong>AN II: I hope you guys like it! I would be grateful for any reviews; as I mentioned before, this is my first story, and would really appreciate feedback!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Alright, well... This isn't a nice one. What's written in _italics_ is Hermione's memories, and most of them are far from pleasant. You may want to skip over them if you think they might make you uncomfortable. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I'm just playing on J.K. Rowling's playground!**

**Other than that, happy reading!**

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><p>On Wednesday morning, Severus was true to his word in meeting Miss Granger outside the gate at exactly eight o'clock. She appeared to have been crying, but that was understandable given the circumstances. Knowing that she was emotional, Severus offered his arm for side-along apparition; he certainly didn't want her splinching herself. As she took his arm, he realized that he didn't know where they were going.<p>

"Miss Granger, as I don't trust you to apparate us safely, I really must ask that you show me where we're going."

She shook her head.

"I understand that you don't want me inside your head, but I really must ins-"

Before Severus could finish his argument, they were apparating away.

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><p>Upon their arrival in a quaint town he was unfamiliar with, Severus found himself amazed that they had both arrived in one piece. He was impressed- not that he'd ever tell her, of course- that she'd been successful in such a state.<p>

Miss Granger let go of his arm before leading the way to a florist. She picked up a bouquet of daisies tied with a lavender ribbon. As they left, Severus noticed that her face was very pale, and silent tears were streaming down her face. He offered her a handkerchief as they made their way to another shop, this one selling candles. She purchased six pillar candles: two tall white, two short lavender, and two medium light yellow. The girl steadied herself before their departure, and the walk to the cemetery was quiet.

Severus looked around at his surroundings. The buildings were older, but just new enough to keep them from looking dingy. Several people were already out and about, and it was quite noisy. The small size of the town made it feel more crowded as they weaved through the throng, and by the time they reached their destination, Severus had had to restrain himself from hexing at least seven people.

The cemetery was quiet, as nobody but the gatekeeper was there. The man had one look at Hermione and went to her immediately.

"Hey, my girl, long time, no see. Have you been alright?" He placed his hand on the witch's arm, and genuine concern was etched on his face.

"As well as can be expected, thank you. And yourself?"

"I do a decent job, but now that Liz has gone to University, things aren't the same. We miss her terribly. She's coming for Christmas, though, so we'll see her soon."

"She's in University already? That means Jack has graduated by now, doesn't it?"

The older man nodded. "He's in France until the end of the year, when he comes home to search for a job."

"That's good. Give them my love, and your wife, as well."

"Of course, Hermione. It was good to see you; I just wish it wasn't like this."

"As do I, Mr. Ross, as do I. Take care."

Miss Granger pulled away and walked back to Severus, eyes full of tears. "That was Mr. Ross, the groundskeeper. I see him every year, and he looks out for me when I'm in town. He doesn't know what exactly happened but, with all the rumors, I'm sure he has some idea," she explained as they made their way to the back corner.

They stopped at a small stone under a tall oak, which read: _Emily Michelle Granger, 17/11/1982-17/11/1987. Beloved sister and daughter._

"Oh, Emmie," the girl sighed before sinking to her knees. She set the flowers against the stone, and arranged the candles. The tallest ones were next to the daisies, and they were arranged by height. It really was a beautiful display.

"They were her favorite colors; she never could pick just one. If you asked her, she'd pout and insist that you ask what her favorite _colors_ were."

Turning to light the candles, Miss Granger sniffed and cleared her throat.

"Hi, love. I know it's been a while, but you know I've been busy, and I almost never come this way. You'd be proud, though; I fought in a war, and we won, like in one of your stories. I can't help but wonder if you would have been a witch, too, but to be honest, I hope not. I couldn't have lived on the run knowing you were there. But, Emmie, I wish you were here. I'll always wish you were here. You were taken far, far too soon. It should have been me. He loved you. Despite everything that happened with me, I hope you know that we all loved you, and I still do. Emmie, you were the only light in that house for me, and I'll never forget the smiles you put on my face just by walking into a room. I miss you so much, but I hope you're happy wherever you are. I hope you're with Mum. I love you, Em. I'll be back next year."

As she rose, Severus offered her his arm, ready to disapparate, before Miss Granger stopped him.

"Wait… There's one more place I want to go. You can go back if you need to; please don't feel like you have to stay. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Lead the way, Miss Granger."

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><p>The walk was short, and led them to a row of houses on a dirty street. They stopped at the one on the far end, and the girl gasped before a sudden snapping noise began ringing out around them on the quiet street. Severus reached out and caught her wrist, desperate for her to calm down. Of course he didn't like seeing her in so much distress, but it was also horribly annoying.<p>

As her breathing calmed, Miss Granger looked up at him with wide brown eyes that seemed terrified. Severus knew where they were: this was her home.

They walked up to the porch, and they both blanched at the blood stain that was still there after all these years. The girl turned the key in the lock, took a deep, fortifying breath, and opened the door.

Miss Granger's house wasn't very big, but it was in excellent condition. Walking through the sitting room, there weren't many photos. The few that were there were clearly of the girl's parents; Severus assumed they were taken during the short time her father wasn't drinking. Her mother was a beautiful woman, with curly blond hair that was cut up to her shoulders and grey eyes. She didn't appear to be very tall, and Miss Granger's facial features were there. Her father, on the other hand, was tall, with dark hair and eyes that resembled those of his daughter. The similarities ended there.

The kitchen was plain, and the counters were empty except for a lone frame siting near the sink. There were two little girls in the picture. One of them was clearly a much-younger Miss Granger, probably about six or seven. She was smiling, but anybody looking hard enough could see that it wasn't real. She'd been strong even then; there weren't many children of that age who would have been able to hide what they were really feeling. The other girl looked to be about three, and she couldn't have looked much different than her sister. Her hair was similar to her mother's, as were her eyes. Miss Granger's sister appeared to be as happy-go-lucky as they came, which Severus figured was just as well. From what he understood, their father hadn't laid a hand on his youngest, until the night he killed her.

The two continued moving through the house. The dining room and master bedroom were downstairs, and they were both as impersonal as they came. Moving upstairs, Miss Granger slowed her pace. The first room on the right was a small bathroom, followed by a bedroom, which had clearly been her sister's.

The room was small, with light purple walls, a yellow bedspread, and wispy white curtains. The light colors made the room feel bigger, as did the fact that there was little in the room. There was a big window on the wall across from the door, and the bed on the left wall. The wardrobe was on the same wall as the door, leaving the fourth wall empty. A few stuffed animals were scattered around the room, and there was a book of fairy tales at the foot of the bed.

He saw Miss Granger follow his gaze out of the corner of his eye.

"I used to read one to her every night when she went to bed."

Severus didn't know what to say to this, so he merely nodded his understanding before they walked out of the room.

Across the hall was another room, which appeared to be Miss Granger's. Her room was nothing like the light that was her sister's room. No, it was much darker; it was painted beige, and the quilt was varying shades of brown. It was tattered and stained, and Severus shuddered at the thought of just what was on the quilt. This room was smaller than the other, and it felt much more cramped. There wasn't anything personal in the room; she probably hadn't had anything.

As they walked in, the girl began to cry before sinking down next to the bed. Severus, feeling awkward, sat next to her. She leaned into him as she wiped away her tears, and he hesitantly put his arm around her. He felt odd as he did it, like he enjoyed being able to comfort her, but he told himself that he just didn't want to witness another panic attack.

Severus wasn't sure how long they sat there before Miss Granger pulled away and rose, turning to look at him.

"The only room left is the library."

He nodded, not sure what else there was he could do, and followed her out of the room and into the next.

The library was unimpressive in what it held; it was mostly Muggle fiction that appeared to be untouched. There was blood on the floor and, near the fireplace, shards of glass littered the floor. There was a lone armchair that was worn with overuse. Severus knew that this was where her father sat before he was swept up in his fits of rage towards his oldest daughter.

He looked back towards her. He knew this was extremely difficult for her; today was emotionally taxing. For now, though, she was quiet. The girl ran her fingers along the shelves before she stopped at one about halfway in.

"His glass was here. That first night, when I was too small to reach his drink, it was here."

Severus looked at where her torment had started. The girl was taking deep breaths, trying to hold herself together, and he felt overwhelming senses of pain and anger. He hurt for this girl, and everything she'd been through in her short life, and he was beyond angry at the man who had done this to her. Before he even thought about it, he approached her and put a (what he hoped was consoling) hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him, eyes full of unshed tears, and moved to wrap her arms around him before falling apart against his chest. Severus was taken aback, but he held her for the second time that day. He rubbed small circles on her back and spoke softly to her, doing his best to calm her. Eventually her tears subsided, and she pulled away slowly.

"Sorry about that, Professor."

"No need, Miss Granger. I understand that this hasn't been an easy day for you. Are you ready to return to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, sir."

And with that, they disapparated back to the school that had become home to both of them. By the time they had walked from the gates to the entrance, the girl had managed to calm herself considerably.

"Thank you for accompanying me today, sir. I really appreciate it."

"It was no trouble at all, Miss Granger."

They parted then, and Severus was surprised to find that, although the day had certainly been emotionally trying, he had enjoyed her company. While she had gone through abhorrent things in her life, she had grown to become one of the most extraordinary people he knew.

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><p>Hermione was lying on her bed reflecting on her day. She had been surprised when her professor wanted to go with her but, unable to see a problem, she allowed it. It hadn't been as bad as she'd worried it would be. He had walked with her quietly to the shops before they visited Emmie, and he'd been a gentleman. She was mortified by how many times she'd burst into tears, but he'd just been so understanding. It wasn't really something she'd expected from him, but she was most certainly grateful for all he'd done for her.<p>

While she was knelt down in front of the stone that marked her sister's resting place, memory after memory flashing before her.

_The bed was warm when Hermione moved to sit next to Emily, story book in hand. Her sister was tucked into bed, and she was curled so she was facing Hermione. The pictures were her favorite part; at the age of three, she couldn't read quite yet, but she was learning. Hermione was eager to teach her sister how to lose herself in the words on the pages._

_They were both small, so there was room for the both of them on the small bed._

_"__Which story do you want tonight, Em?"_

_Emmie looked as thoughtful as a child her age could. "The Three Little Pigs!"_

_With a warm smile, Hermione complied. This was her sister's favorite, and she had been expecting it. Emmie liked when Hermione read in different voices for all the characters; she giggled through the tale before settling down and going to sleep._

_"__Goodnight, Em. I love you," Hermione murmured with a kiss to the forehead as she left her sister._

This one came with the flowers; the next with the lighting of the first candle.

_"'__Mione! You're home!"_

_"__Yes, Emmie, here I am. How was your day?"_

_"__Bad. Daddy was angry, and he made Mummy cry. He made her bleed."_

_Hermione pulled her sister in for a tight hug, ignoring the pains from where her father had hit her the night before. _

_"__Oh, Em. It's okay, you know Daddy loves you. He'll never hurt you. I'm sure Mum is just fine."_

_She heard her sister sniff and Hermione moved a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Let's go inside now, hmm?"_

_Emmie nodded and pulled away, preceding Hermione into the house. The sitting room smelled like blood, and Hermione cringed. While it didn't happen often, it wasn't unusual. He usually only beat their mother in their bedroom._

_After sending her younger sister to her room, she heard him._

_"__Well, well, look who's home. Come to Daddy, 'Mione."_

_His outstretched hand looked gentle and kind, but Hermione knew better. As soon as she was within reaching distance, that open hand would meet her cheek before it became a fist that punched her torso until it hurt to breathe. She stepped forward slowly, trying to put off the inevitable. Her hesitance only served to irritate the piss-drunk man before her, and he didn't wait for her. With two long strides, he was there._

_She didn't even have time to process his proximity before he hit her. It was a hard slap that made her neck jerk with its force. She gasped, but was immediately unable with a few quick punches to the gut. She could practically feel her bruises layering as he hit her in the same places he had yesterday and all the days before._

The rest of the memories were similar to this one. It always started out alright before it was tarnished by the monster that had been her father.

After visiting her sister's grave, she had a sudden urge to go back to the house. She wasn't sure why; she hadn't been back since she left. When her parents were discovered dead, she inherited the house; it was supposed to go to Emmie, but she was the only one left. She'd cast a Stasis charm and hadn't looked back. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the prospect of not having to go alone had played a part in her decision, but she couldn't be sure.

When they had approached the house, Hermione instantly regretted the decision as they reached the porch.

_She was humming as she went down the stairs. It was Emmie's fifth birthday, and Hermione had scrounged up enough money to buy her sister a gift on her way home from school. She was almost skipping through the house, but knew she had to be as quiet as she could so she didn't wake her father._

_Hermione packed her lunch and quietly opened the door to leave. When she opened it, she saw a red pool on her front porch. Her heart was pounding in her chest; had somebody done something to her father?_

_Looking down next to the door was the body of her sister, throat slit and dried blood dried in a trail down her corpse._

_Hermione screamed, and knelt down next to Emmie. She was still in her pajamas, her hair tousled with sleep. _

_She didn't have to wait long before she heard her parents coming down the stairs. Hermione could tell when her mother approached by the wracking sobs coming from the woman. When her father came, he gasped. Then he was cursing angrily._

_Fingers wrapped in her hair, yanking her head back. She was being dragged back up the stairs, and he threw her down on her bed. Hermione fought to sit up, but he struck her hard, forcing her back down. His rough hands were tearing her clothes from her body and he was touching her everywhere. As bad as his beatings had been in the past, Hermione knew that nothing had been as terrible as what was to come._

_His hands left her body to take off his pants before he reached down and spread her legs. She was crying and begging him to stop, but he only hovered over her and thrust into her, tearing through her in one move. Her cries became pained as he pounded into her and her body was violated roughly. It was pain that she had never felt before, and she felt as if she were being torn apart. Her father's movements sped and then a rush of moisture entered her. _

_He was moaning over her, but it hardly registered. All she could focus on was the throbbing between her legs as he pulled out of her. She took in a sharp breath when she saw her blood on him, and he laughed._

That was when Professor Snape had pulled her from her memory. She took a deep breath and they entered the house.

Downstairs hadn't been bad; there weren't many bad memories she associated with that part of the house. It wasn't until they began climbing the stairs that Hermione started losing herself. They made their way past the bathroom and Emmie's bedroom, which didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. Her room was difficult, and he'd sat with her as she broke down yet again.

_"__When will you ever learn not to come in here when I'm drinking?! Can't you do anything right?"_

_Hermione cowered in the corner of the library. She had only come in to get a new book for Emmie, and she'd hoped that she could come and go without her father noticing. Unfortunately, he wasn't as drunk as he normally was by now, so he was still aware enough to catch her._

_She tried to make a run for the door, but he leapt from his chair and lunged at her, knocking her to the floor. Her father lifted her and threw her over his shoulder, carrying her to her bed. He undressed her and hit her hard, surely leaving her flesh bruised wherever he touched her. She knew that he hardened more with every punch, and it frightened her to no end to know that he drew pleasure from his abuse._

_The fight just left her as she laid back on her bed, waiting for him to have his way with her. It only hurt more when she fought, and she was trying to minimize the pain._

_He pushed into her again and again before releasing, laughing at her attempts to hide her pain from him._

Then her Professor was next to her and his arm was around her waist, pulling her from the darkness of her memories. She was surprised that she was able to calm at all; there was only one room left.

The library was where it had all started and ended, and she'd had a hard time coming to terms with the blood stains of her and her parents.

_She'd had enough. Her father had been beating her for six years and raping her for three. She was done. It was time to confront him._

_Storming angrily into the library, Hermione marched over to where her father was sitting. He kept all of his alcohol near his seat so he didn't have to get up. Without even thinking about it, she smacked his drink away and hurled the bottle of scotch at the fireplace, quickly followed by all the others. She was heaving by the time she was finished, and only then did she look down at her father's face. _

_He was murderously angry. Suddenly, her anger left her and she was only left with a fear so strong she was trembling where she stood. Never before had he looked at her with that much anger and hatred._

_Rising and swaying slightly, he towered over her. He roared at her and pulled a knife she hadn't known he had from a pocket in his shirt and dug the knife into her flesh, burying it deep in her flesh before pulling it out._

_"__You've really gone and fucking done it this time. I've had enough of your shit, you stupid little bitch. Mary, get your lazy arse out of bed and see what I've done with this failure of a daughter!" he bellowed, turning briefly towards the door before facing her again._

_She whimpered in pain as she grasped at her side, gulping when she saw her blood on the knife. Her father bent down next to her and touched the blade to her arm, running it down from shoulder to halfway down her forearm. She heard her mother enter the room, and she looked around with a blank expression. _

_After Emmie had died, her mother had completely stopped caring about anything and everything. She almost never left her room, and no longer fought her husband in Hermione's defense._

_The look of utter indifference on her face sent her father even deeper into his rage. Jumping away from his daughter, he rushed at his wife and slashed the knife across her throat. Next to the end of the cut, he carved a small flower. Upon further inspection, Hermione realized she'd seen that little daisy carved into somebody else's throat._

_Hermione gasped in shock. The pieces all fell into place, and her heart broke even more. Her father was responsible for Emmie and her mother and, judging by the look on his face when he looked down at her, now it was her turn._

_Her fears were confirmed as he neared her, knife held out to find its target. As the blade neared her throat, something surged within her and seemed to burst from her every pore. Her father fell back and the knife sank into his chest as he sank to the floor in a heap. Staring in horror at the scene before her, Hermione fled._

All she could really remember from being in that room with Professor Snape was him putting his hand on her shoulder before she flung herself at him. In hindsight, she was surprised he hadn't pried her off him, but he'd held her- again- and tried to calm her hysterics. His touch had been surprisingly warm and effective, and Hermione knew that she'd narrowly avoided numerous attacks that day.

It was not lost on Hermione that he was different. He had been since after the war, but now it was more. He was kind towards her, not just slightly less of a bastard.

She was desperate for a new beginning, but she had no idea how to go about getting what she needed. All Hermione knew was that there was only one person she could turn to, and it was the very person who, she realized, had worked his way in and stolen her heart.

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><p><strong>AN II: If you wouldn't mind, please let me know what you thought; all feedback is appreciated, and I would really like to grow as a writer! See you next Wednesday!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing; I'm just playing on J.K. Rowling's playground!**

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><p>Other than in class, Hermione hadn't seen Professor Snape for a couple of weeks. Since she had realized that what she felt for him was more than the schoolgirl crush she'd had for the past few years, she didn't know if she should still go and see him. He'd told her that he was available to her if and when she needed to talk to somebody, and she'd been alright- for the most part- since those days in November.<p>

So she was surprised when he asked her to stay after class. A part of her was worried that he wanted to talk more about what she'd told him but, at the same time, it would be nice to know that somebody cared. She'd almost never had that (not that she could complain; she'd done it to herself).

Hermione made her way to his desk as the other students filed out of the room. They'd learned about stronger shield spells today, but it really didn't matter what they learned; it all seemed so simple after the war.

"You wanted to speak with me, Professor?"

He was marking essays. Judging by the amount of red ink on the parchment, this one was particularly dreadful. Her professor finished marking the one he was reading before looking up at her.

"Yes, Miss Granger. If I recall correctly, you said you wanted to Master Potions, yes?"

"That's right, sir."

"And you would like to teach it as well?"

"Yes, Professor."

He looked her over before he continued, and Hermione blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

"Would you like to take an apprenticeship with me, Miss Granger?"

Hermione was stunned into silence. The shock must have been evident on her face, because her professor sneered at her.

"Close your mouth, Miss Granger; you look like a fish, and it is most unbecoming."

She did as he asked before trying to form a coherent answer.

"Yes, sir, I would like that very much. Thank you so much for the opportunity. It means a lot."

Professor Snape didn't just hand out apprenticeships. He'd never had one while she was a student. It was an honor to even be considered. But then a thought struck her.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why exactly did you choose me?"

"Because, Miss Granger," he answered, as if he'd expected this question, "You have had the best record Hogwarts has ever seen. It's even better than Tom Riddle's. I would be foolish _not _to offer it to you. But, I understand your concerns. I can assure you that it was not a personal decision. I would have asked you anyway."

Hermione nodded her understanding and breathed a sigh of relief. She would have walked away if he was only giving it to her because of her father.

"It has already been cleared with the Headmaster, so you can move to your new quarters whenever you are ready. I will expect you to help brew potions for the infirmary, grade papers, and learn new potions, as well as teach a class occasionally. You will also be expected to complete a research project. This will be a difficult, albeit very educational, three years for you Miss Granger. You will have to take your N.E.W.T.s early- before the end of term- but I'm sure you've been studying since before the war, so it shouldn't be an issue. Be here at seven in the morning tomorrow, Miss Granger."

"Yes, sir."

She recognized his clear dismissal and left, fighting the urge to squeal as she went to her dorm to start packing. Hermione was surprised that she felt so comfortable with the idea of living so close to the dour professor, but she trusted him wholeheartedly. She was excited beyond belief for such an opportunity. She only wanted to learn from the best, after all, and Professor Snape was certainly the best.

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><p>Severus had decided he wanted her as his apprentice years ago. She had always excelled, and he could see that she admired and respected the art and science of potion-making. Her marks were impeccable, and her O.W.L.s had been absolutely flawless; he was sure her N.E.W.T.s would be similar.<p>

Hearing her say that she wanted to Master Potions had certainly pleased him. Now he knew that he would be able to teach the most intelligent witch in Wizarding Britain everything he knew; it was an as much of an opportunity for him as it was for her. Severus wanted to know what went on in that brilliant mind of hers. He had been teaching her for years, but it would be different one-on-one. In class, he was expected to be an utter bastard but, in private, he could push her and encourage her at the same time. Severus had hated having to favor the dunderheaded Slytherins, especially over her, but it had been necessary in his role as a spy. She knew this now, and she had already been exposed to his gentler side. Very few knew he had it, and it wasn't something he shared easily, but with her… it _had_ been easy. He had wanted to stop her tears; she was such a strong person- and witch- and it was unnerving to see her in such a broken state.

Asking her had been easier than he'd thought it would be. Severus had never had an apprentice before, but he was honestly excited. He was curious to see how different it would be teaching her individually rather than in class; he wanted to see how she changed- if she did at all.

He reluctantly went back to his marking; he would certainly enjoy pushing some of this drivel off onto her. Essays from his second years were usually atrocious, but these were so much worse than usual. What in the name of Merlin was so complicated about writing an essay with information from a textbook? Of course, part of the assignment required use of one's own brain, but they couldn't even get the easy part of this assignment right. The moment he could start teaching Granger- with no dunderheads present- couldn't come soon enough.

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><p>Hermione arrived at Professor Snape's classroom five minutes early. She wasn't quite sure if she should wait the five minutes out, or just go in now. While she didn't want to be late, she also had no desire to be snarked at for being overeager. It was an early Saturday morning, after all.<p>

Making her mind up, she knocked tentatively on the door.

"Enter."

She stepped inside quickly and walked to his desk, unsure of what she should be doing. She was saved from worrying about it further by her professor.

"Your apprenticeship begins now, Miss Granger. Today, you will be making a Burn Salve. It isn't very complicated, but is needed in the Hospital Wing. Do you have any questions?"

"Well, I've never made it before. Do you have anything I could read about it before I begin? I usually learn best that way."

"Why am I not surprised?" he sneered. He silently summoned a small stack of books and set them on the desk, offering them to her. "You are welcome to borrow these, or anything else from that shelf, whenever necessary, as long as they are kept in pristine condition, which I don't think will be an issue. You will need this, as well."

Professor Snape was holding out a small notebook. She took it gently, looking at it closely. It was black and made of dragon-hide, in case of spills. There was a silver scrolling along the edges, and the pages were a nice and durable parchment. It was beautiful.

"It is customary for a Master to give his apprentice a Potions journal of their very own. You can record brewing instructions, notes, and the like. There is a charm placed on it so it will never run out of pages; don't feel like you can't write something down. It is for you and for you alone."

"Thank you, sir. It's lovely."

He nodded once before rising. "I will be back shortly. You will work over there." He pointed across the room at a small work station that hadn't been there yesterday. A cauldron was already set up, as well as any other tools she could possibly need for brewing. Being the DADA classroom, there wasn't any place in the room for brewing, so he'd had to improvise.

"Yes, Professor."

Hermione gathered the books gingerly and took them to her station. It didn't take her long to find instructions for the Burn Salve, and it was simple enough to make. Brewing was something that calmed her; she could get lost in her thoughts and just go through the motions of making whatever it was, and it was one of the few times she could truly be at peace. She was so absorbed in what she was doing that she didn't even notice her professor coming back into the room. Hermione had already brewed two batches and was almost done with the third; he hadn't said how much to make.

The completed salves were sitting on his desk, awaiting inspection. Since he knew that she'd never made it before, it seemed prudent for her to leave them for him. That, and it was simply routine.

Hermione didn't hear Professor Snape go to his desk and check her work. She didn't hear him come up behind her to watch her work. She didn't even know he was there; it was just her, the books, the journal, and the cauldron.

She finished the third batch and put it in a jar, turning it to place it with the others. When she saw her professor standing behind her with a raised eyebrow, she jumped and almost dropped the jar. Hermione flushed, and set the jar on the table.

"Sorry, Professor. I didn't hear you come in."

"I noticed. You were quite lost to the world, Miss Granger."

A sheepish grin crept onto her face before she responded.

"Yes, well, that tends to happen when I brew."

"Ah, the mark of a true Potioneer. It is easy- for those who understand it- to get lost in the art of potion-making. It isn't something you have to focus on; you just do it."

She nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. It was something she felt whenever she stood over a cauldron, and it was one of the best feelings in the world. Hermione was also trying her hardest not to react too much to his praise, settling for a small smile.

"Now, Miss Granger, let's discuss your salves, shall we?"

Hermione was suddenly more than a little nervous, but she was excited, as well. While she had followed the instructions to the letter, it was still Professor Snape. He had made notes in his Potions textbook as a student, changing things to perfect his work. Had he expected her to do something similar? He was always emphasizing the need for original thought; maybe she should have done something differently. The Burn Salves were the appropriate bright orange, but maybe there was still something wrong…

"Don't look so worried, Miss Granger, they are fine. Like I said earlier, it isn't complex; Potter probably could have managed it. I think two more batches will do."

"Yes, sir."

It didn't take long for her to fall back into her thoughts as she worked, even with Professor Snape watching her. He'd observed her brewing plenty of times in class; this shouldn't be any different. But, it was. They were alone, and he was teaching her in such a way that she was learning and still wanted to do better. He had yet to reprimand her- although it was only her first day, and the day was young. As she'd lost track of time, she didn't know how long she'd been there, only that she was content to stay here all day.

Before long, the last two salves were finished, and she put them on his desk with the others. Sometime in the past however-long-it-had-been, he had gone back to marking essays. Not wanting to disturb his work, she went to clean her work area instead. Soon enough, the cauldron was scrubbed, the tools had been washed (by hand; there were some things she enjoyed doing the Muggle way), and she had wiped the table down. One by one she gathered the left over ingredients and put them back where she'd found them; there was a small storage cabinet next to the table for her to use so she didn't have to go all the way to the dungeons to get what she needed.

It wasn't until she had finished this and sat down at a desk with one of the books he'd given her that her stomach growled loudly. She looked quickly at her watch, only to see that she had missed breakfast. Sighing, she went back to her book, trying to ignore her stomach; she'd just wait until lunch.

"Miss Granger, have you eaten today?"

"No, sir. I came directly here and I think I lost track of time."

"I'm sure you did, given how you work. Tinky," he called, Summoning his house elf.

She arrived with a pop. "What can Tinky do for Master Snape?"

"Bring Miss Granger some breakfast, as well as tea for the both of us."

"Tinky is proud to serve!" and she disappeared again.

Hermione grimaced at the use of the house elf but, hungry as she was, she couldn't argue. She stretched out as best she could in the chair, resting the cover against the edge of the desk. The tome was fascinating, and it was easy for the world to fall away as it did when she brewed; it was just Hermione and the book. She didn't notice when the food and tea came until Professor Snape cleared his throat, sounding amused. Her head snapped up and she looked down. A plate of eggs and toast sat before her with an apple and a cup of tea. She set the book down and ate, so hungry that she almost forgot that her professor was there. Not wanting to seem rude, she decided that now was as good a time as any to ask some of her questions.

"Professor?" she asked in between bites.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I was just wondering, what got you started on potions?"

"Not that it's any of your business," he drawled, "but it's just something I've always been good at. I found it to be calming; a release of sorts. While I was drawn to the Dark Arts, I never had as much passion for them as I did potions. The Dark Arts are unpredictable and sometimes draining, and brewing is simple and soothing. It wasn't difficult for me to decide what I wanted to do after Hogwarts."

"That's how it was for me, too. It's a way to just get away from everything, if only for a little while; I feel the same with reading. The feeling is just so… light. It's freeing; liberating, even. I can't imagine wanting to do anything else."

Her professor looked at her for a moment before simply nodding and taking a sip of his tea.

"Miss Granger, what are the properties of Bloomslang skin?"

"Well, Professor, it is a necessary ingredient in Polyjuice…. Oh. How did you know about that?"

"Did you really think that a Potions Master wouldn't notice when his stores had been stolen from? And then there was the part where you turned yourself into a cat. It wasn't difficult to deduce that you were the one to take the skin."

"That… makes sense. I never did apologize for stealing from you. Sorry about that."

He glowered before his expression lightened just a bit. "I would have been angrier if it weren't so impressive that you were able to brew a successful Polyjuice at such a young age."

"So were you also aware that I was the one to set your robes on fire in my first year?" The words had shot from her mouth before she could think about what she was saying.

"That was _you_? I suppose I should have known. Nobody else would have noticed anything other than the game."

She gave him a small smile, nodded, and went back to her book before closing it again.

Hermione had finished breakfast sometime during their short conversation, and was unsure of what to do next. She didn't have classes anymore; most of her time would be taken up with her work. If she always had this little to do, she was going to become very bored very quickly.

"Can I help you with the marking, sir?"

"That would be appreciated, Miss Granger," he said as he handed her a stack of parchments. "These are the Third Years' assignments on Boggarts. I assume you know what to look for?"

"I believe so."

"Then, by all means, get to work. But don't go easy on them. They need to know exactly what they are doing wrong so they can learn from it and avoid making the same mistake twice."

"I understand."

The two spent the rest of the afternoon marking papers, stopping for lunch and resuming almost immediately after. Hermione had run the burn salves down to the infirmary, and she'd gone to Professor Slughorn's supply closet to get some things she didn't have and felt she might need. It had been a great first day, and she was excited to see what the next three years would hold.

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><p>Looking back, Miss Granger's first day had been pleasant. She was eager to succeed in this apprenticeship, and they worked decently together. Severus had almost wanted to laugh when she'd asked if he had books for her to read on the salve, though he would never expect anything less.<p>

Her reaction to the notebook had been nice, too. The witch had looked at it carefully; he could tell that she was admiring every detail. Severus knew she'd take care of it and it would be used well.

Then he'd granted her access to some of his library- the small one in the classroom, at least. He knew that if he could trust anyone with his collection, it was her; she loved books as much as- if not more than- he did. Then he'd left.

Severus had gone done for a quick breakfast before taking a walk on the grounds. By the time he went back to his classroom, it had been about two-and-a-half hours. He hadn't meant to leave her alone for so long, but she'd been just fine. Her salves were perfect, and she was efficient.

Watching her brew was fascinating. He'd been in there for almost thirty minutes before she'd turned and almost dropped the finished salve. Like him, she tuned out the entire world. Severus hadn't worked with someone who brewed that way since his own apprenticeship, and it was refreshing to find a mind that worked like his. He'd been surrounded by dunderheads for far too long.

She even had the same habit of forgetting to eat. Things like that don't seem important when you're lost to the world; it hadn't even seemed to cross her mind. She hadn't had an overwhelming amount of questions, but the ones she asked were good ones. It had surprised him when she'd wanted to know why he was so drawn to Potions, but he'd told her anyway. Severus found that he really didn't mind talking to her; he wouldn't go so far as to say he liked it, but it wasn't bad at all.

Miss Granger had done well with the marking; she had pointed out what was wrong while also putting emphasis on what was important. She had kept praise to a minimum- not that much had been deserved- and her comments were constructively criticizing while remaining kind, while his were much more caustic. If she'd come across something particularly appalling, she would point it out much less gently, but overall, her marking would be effective.

Yes, Miss Granger had definitely been the right choice for his apprentice. It would be a good three years.

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><p><strong>AN II: I just want to thank everybody who has given this story a chance. I never expected to have over 2,000 views in just the first three chapters, and it's kind of surreal. It may not be a lot when you really think about it, but it's still pretty awesome! I'm not gonna lie; I've always been that weird girl that sits in the corner and is rarely acknowledged (not that I'd have it any other way, mind you), so it's... different- good different, not bad different, I swear. **

**I appreciate any and all reviews; I would love to know how to be better, and I'm grateful for encouragement and criticism alike!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Admittedly, this one isn't very nice (towards the end, at least). If this bothers you, I would suggest skipping the last part of the chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I'm just playing on J.K. Rowling's playground!**

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><p>It had been three months since Hermione had begun her apprenticeship with Professor Snape, and it was going well. She was brewing more complicated potions now, and he'd recently started letting her teach Professor Slughorn's first years. He really was an excellent teacher; it felt as if she'd learned more in three months than in all her years as a student.<p>

Her N.E.W.T.s had been the week before Christmas, and she'd passed them all with flying colors and she now held the record at Hogwarts.

She had stayed at Hogwarts over the holiday for the first time, and it had been nice. She usually went home and stayed in her alley, but her professor had work for her to do.

Professor Snape was wonderful. It was apparent that he wasn't always a snarky bastard, and Hermione enjoyed their time together. Her feelings aside, it was amazing how much she liked working with him. He was absolutely brilliant, and they could talk about anything for hours as they argued their points. There had been many times when he'd asked her what she thought of a book she'd been reading, and it would lead to a long discussion over tea, like one they'd had the other night.

_"__So, what did you think?"_

_"__It was rather insightful, Professor. I never thought of Potions being linked to other magic that way. I knew that all forms of magic were connected, but I've never researched _how_. It makes so much sense. Thank you for lending it to me."_

_"__It was my pleasure. I do believe that you are the only person in the building- with the exception of Albus, of course- who is competent enough to uphold any discussion on such matters. Now, were you aware that at Hogwarts, all magic is tied to the castle's elemental magic?"_

_"__Yes, sir. I read it in _Hogwarts: A History_. It was a fascinating concept. Because of the immense power of the castle, the magic done on the grounds can be strengthened in times of need. The castle is sentient, which explains how the moving staircases cooperate when you ask nicely. Anyway, the ultimate goal of the castle is to protect its inhabitants. The magic of the professors is stronger here than anywhere else in the world, allowing the most protection possible."_

_He nodded. "Good. Where does Potions fit into this?"_

_"__Well, if the castle's magic makes our magic stronger, it is safe to assume that the ingredients that grow on the grounds would also be more powerful, yielding stronger potions. What links Potions to other forms of magic is magic itself. The ingredients absorb the magic from the grounds, as do the plants in the greenhouse. It is the same magic that allows charms ad transfiguration to work; the power pulses through the castle's walls. Thus, all magic in the castle is connected by the castle's magic."_

_"__Indeed. Have you seen evidence of this, Miss Granger?"_

_"__I believe so. During the Final Battle, all of the professors put up the wards. That is extremely powerful magic, and should have left the professors drained. However, than would make the students more vulnerable, so the castle strengthened their magic. At the same time, the wards were much stronger than they would have been otherwise."_

_"__Well done. So, does the art of Potions require magic?"_

_"__Not directly. While the brewer doesn't have to use their magic in the obvious sense, it still flows, like a circuit. Our magic runs through us, and is part of us whether we're using it or not. This is what allows us to brew. But, the magic from the grounds is also in the ingredients. So, even if one didn't have magic, and the castle deemed it acceptable, a Muggle could brew with things from Hogwarts."_

_ "__That is mostly correct. While it is true that the magic from the grounds would make brewing possible, a Muggle would not be successful. A Squib, probably, could manage, but not a Muggle. Squibs have little magic, but it's there. Hogwarts' magic needs to be able to channel through the brewer, and Squibs have just enough to make it possible."_

_"__So it really is like a circuit, then."_

_"__Yes, I suppose it is."_

Hermione had moved to her new quarters a week into her apprenticeship, and it was actually nice to live so close to him. They would oftentimes work together in their shared sitting room, and he really wasn't bad to live with. He was organized and the rooms were all clean (courtesy of the house elves, she was sure). The rooms were fit for the Head of Slytherin, all in dark green and silver. Most of their quarters were shared; they each had their own bedrooms and bathrooms, but the rest of the space was for both of them. He didn't even mind Crookshanks being there as long as he behaved himself.

Sleep was easier now than it had been, but she still had to silence her rooms so he wouldn't hear the screams from her nightmares. While she was having them nightly, they had lessened in their intensity, so they felt less real. Hermione still woke up screaming and wet with sweat, but what sleep she did get was better.

One night a few weeks ago, she'd woken up from one of the really bad ones; she'd been hoarse from her screams, the sheets were soaked, and she was shaking. Desperately in need of a cup of tea, she'd gone out to their kitchenette as quietly as she could. She had been able to prepare it, but when she reached for a mug from the cabinet, she was shaking so badly that it slipped from her fingers. It fell to the stone floor and shattered loudly, echoing through the silence. She'd had an instant flashback to that night when her father had first hit her and she curled up into a ball on the floor, snapping hurriedly at the band on her wrist. It wasn't long before she drew blood, but it didn't matter. She just needed everything to stop. She could almost feel his hands connect with her torso as he beat her; the rage and hatred was still in his face.

Professor Snape had come rushing into the room, wand at the ready before realizing it was only Hermione. Once he'd looked at the sight before him- shattered mug and Hermione rocking on the floor with blood trickling down her arm- he'd immediately knelt down beside her and taken her in his strong arms. He'd murmured quick healing and cleaning spells and grabbed her wrist gently; she'd pulled it away at first, but then she'd realized what was going on. She slowly came out of her mind, only to find tears running down her face. It had taken her a while to regain control of herself, but he'd stayed with her. When she could finally breathe again, Hermione pulled away slowly, giving her professor a look that was both grateful and apologetic. He had looked her over, repaired the mug, and poured her tea before getting his own.

"Sorry, Professor, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's alright, Miss Granger; I was not yet asleep." He hadn't needed to ask if she wanted to talk about it; Hermione knew that he knew she would if she was able.

So, sitting on the couch at just after two in the morning, she'd told him what had happened. Hermione had described the nightmare and what had happened after. Professor Snape didn't say anything as she spoke; he just listened. It was nice to be listened to.

After their tea, he'd sent her back to bed, and they hadn't spoken of it since.

Now, when she woke up in a state, she Summoned Tinky instead.

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><p>The past three months had been pleasant for Severus. His workload was considerably lighter since he'd started working with Miss Granger, and he was getting more sleep. All in all, he was slightly less dour than he had been.<p>

Miss Granger was a perfect student. She learned quickly, was an excellent brewer, and was one of the most intelligent witches he'd ever worked with. They were moving quickly through her apprenticeship; she was almost two weeks ahead of schedule. Her work was impeccable, and she was doing well with her teaching. According to Horace, she'd quickly won over most of the first years.

She wasn't terrible to live with. The young woman was just about as organized as he was, so _his_ quarters gradually became _their_ quarters; he really didn't mind this at all. Severus had been alone for so long that it felt nice not to have to be anymore. He enjoyed their late-night banter about Potions, or politics, or anything. It didn't matter what they talked about; it was stimulating for his mind, having another brilliant mind to argue with.

Even her cat was manageable. The furry orange menace had taken to him, and would curl up with him if Miss Granger wasn't there or he was having a particularly bad day.

Since finding out about what she'd endured at home and experiencing the aftermath firsthand, Severus had been making an effort not to be a complete arse to her all the time. She'd had more than enough of that in her short life; he didn't need to add to it. As much as he wanted to help fix her, he wasn't quite sure he knew how. Since November, she hadn't had many more panic attacks that he was aware of; there had been maybe five since they'd started working together. Miss Granger hadn't brought any of it up unless he was calming her down, and a part of him was glad. He had come to feel protective over her, and as willing as he was to listen, he didn't like hearing what haunted her dreams. It made him feel sick and angry and sorry that he couldn't make it go away.

A tentative friendship had formed between the two. They were slowly but surely becoming familiar with one another, they enjoyed each other's company, and they worked well together. He looked forward to working with her when he woke up n the mornings. Not having expected to survive the war, Severus hadn't had much of a plan. He would continue teaching, and that was all he knew.

But now, he was doing that, and he was _happy_ about it. Never had he enjoyed teaching as much as he did with Miss Granger.

There had been minor disagreements, of course, but they hadn't lasted very long. Sometimes he pushed her mind, hard, and she would get frustrated. They would both lose their tempers, rail at each other, and then it would be over. She would finally understand what he was doing, or he would eventually try a different approach; they usually ended up somewhere in the middle.

The rest of term passed quickly, and soon the school year was over. There was to be a celebration of the first anniversary of the war's end, but both he and his apprentice had declined. Severus was staying at Hogwarts during summer, and Miss Granger would be leaving. He sent some work with her, and she would owl him her assignments and an argument; their banters were by letter now. It pleased him to know that she wanted to keep in touch as much as he did, and while it wasn't quite the same, it would suffice.

He wasn't really sure where she was staying. Severus couldn't imagine her going back to the house, so he could only think that she was on the streets again. This worried him immensely, but it was her life. If the streets were where she wanted to be, it wasn't his place to tell her otherwise, even if he wanted to. Sure, she'd been fine for years, but that didn't make it any easier for him.

Her friendship had become valuable to him, and Severus didn't know what he would do if anything happened to her. He would be alone again, and he couldn't go back to that. Severus had learned what it was like to have a true friend in Miss Granger, and he was not willing to let it go. Somewhere in the past six months, she had come to matter to Severus, and he would do what he could for her.

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><p>The streets of Hermione's small hometown were always lively. People were moving all day, always having somewhere to be. When she left Hogwarts and come here, she'd found her way to the alley she'd inhabited every summer since she'd started school. It was small, in between the book shop and a small café, as far from her childhood home as she could get. Hermione had enough money from the war to live comfortably, but she was frugal. She would buy the occasional book and lunch from her 'neighbors', but that was it, aside from groceries. Only nonperishables; they were inexpensive and meant to last. She tried to use magic as little as possible when she was home. With as many people out and about as there were, she couldn't risk being caught.<p>

Her summer had been as uneventful as ever, aside from her correspondence from Professor Snape. She enjoyed doing the work; it relaxed her and gave her something to look forward to. Hermione's days were long and often dull; she would talk to other homeless people, but most of them lived on the other side of town. More shops were that way and, unlike her, many of the homeless weren't so by choice. They needed to be there.

Part of her wished she had told her professor where she was, but she had a feeling he could figure it out on his own. There was nothing stopping her from writing, 'I'm currently living in an alley at home,' but she just didn't. It was pointless.

He would probably disapprove, but she didn't care. Professor Snape wouldn't understand. This was one of those places where she felt safe, strange as it may be. At home, shut out from the world, things had been well and truly awful. Out here, people were everywhere; surely that was safer.

It was with this in mind Hermione decided to take a walk one night. It was early July, and the air was warm. The breeze was soft and calm, cooling her face as she ambled through the streets. When she felt as if she'd gotten too close to home, she turned back around. She made it back to her alley quickly; there were less people out now than there had been earlier, and she didn't want to be caught too far away when it grew quiet.

Hermione was sitting against a wall with a book under a street light when it happened. She was so absorbed in the thick tome that she didn't hear the footsteps approaching her. All she knew was that one minute she was learning about Oculus Potion, and the next a hand was on her mouth, muffling her screams. Her wand fell from her sleeve and fell to the ground, but her attackers didn't seem to notice it. The one that was holding her spun her around so she could see them.

There were two. One, the one who'd grabbed her, was tall, with fair hair and dark eyes. He was stocky, and she was confident she'd never seen him before in her life. The other was much shorter, and he was also much uglier. He was stout, and his toad-like face made her think of Umbridge.

"Well, well, well, what've we here? It looks like a treat for the two of us, doesn't it, mate?" the tall one sneered in a smooth voice. Hermione was vaguely aware that she was trembling.

"And look, she's scared," said the toad. His voice was nasal and high pitched for a male.

Before she could process anything else, Hermione felt her head being smashed against the wall as she fell to the ground. Above her, she could hear pants being undone. Her heart sank; she never thought she'd have to do this again, especially not with total strangers. She was horrified, but also resigned. They couldn't take anything from her; she had nothing left to give.

The two bent over her, pants down just enough for their lengths to be free. The toad began yanking her clothing from her body while the other stroked himself. She just sat there. There wasn't any fight left in her. Hermione had lost it all to her father; some had come back in the face of the war, but now it was all gone again. She couldn't bring herself to struggle.

The two men must have been looking for a little fight- and been upset when she didn't give it to them- because she was being hit hard in the face. She still did nothing.

The beating continued until Hermione was seeing stars, and as she came back to herself, she felt one of them enter her forcefully. She stayed limp and unmoving beneath him. She could hear him grunting above her, and he hit her again; the other man was pleasuring himself as he watched.

It felt like it lasted forever, but he finally released inside her. She knew it wasn't over, though. The other had to have a turn.

She was surprised to find that the second man wasn't the toad; she'd thought he was the submissive partner, but maybe they were both dominant. Not that it mattered; they both raped her anyway.

The tall one had his fun. He was worse than the toad; he hit her harder and more frequently, and his thrusts were harder, like her father's. By the time he was done, Hermione was battered. Both her eyes were swollen, her nose felt broken, she had a split lip; her breasts were badly bruised, some ribs felt bruised or broken, and she was struggling for breath. That familiar pain was back between her legs, but she had long since grown used to it. When Hermione looked up from cataloguing her injuries, both men were gone. Sitting up, she pulled on what clothing was left; her bra was in pieces and her shirt was torn, but wearable. Her jeans were spotted with her blood, as were her knickers, but she pulled them on. She struggled to find her wand, beyond relieved when she found it in one piece.

"Tinky."

She waited a moment before the house elf appeared with a pop that resounded through the empty alley. "What can Tinky do for Mistress?"

"Tinky, I need you to take me to Professor Snape," Hermione rasped.

It was then that Tinky noticed her condition, and she gasped.

"Yes, Mistress. Tinky will take you to Master Snape."

They left just as Hermione fell into the darkness and let it swallow her.

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><p><strong>AN II: Thanks again to everybody who's taken time to read and keep up with my story so far; it means a lot! I wish I could update more often but, in the past few weeks, writing has slowly become more important than my schoolwork, and I can't really let that happen; I'd really rather not fail out of school. I'm also trying to make sure I stay far ahead enough in writing it that, should I have a week when I can't write at all, I'll still be able to update no problem. **

**Currently, this story is about 18.5 chapters, but I'm not done yet! I wish I could give you an idea of how long it will be, but I haven't been following my original plan too well- things are taking much longer than they were supposed too, but that's okay. All I know is that I'm about five chapters off, meaning that what I thought would happen in Ch. 15 got pushed to Ch. 20; not that it matters, and it actually turned out better, I think.**

**Anyway, enough of my blathering; any and all reviews are welcome and appreciated, and I'll see you guys next Wednesday! **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the cliff hanger last time... Alright, you caught me- I'm not the least bit sorry:) This one's a little shorter, as are the next two, but my chapters will never be less than 2,500 words, I swear; I'm not mean enough to make you wait a whole week for a thousand words. **

**Disclaimer: I still don't own anything; that's (unfortunately) not about to change anytime soon.**

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><p>Severus was in the sitting room he usually shared with his apprentice when his house elf appeared, fear in her wide eyes.<p>

"Master Snape!"

He looked at the elf. She was holding something- no, someone. Severus rose instantly and went to take whoever it was from Tinky.

"What happened?"

"Tinky was called and found her this way, Master Snape. She asked Tinky to bring her to you, so Tinky did as she asked."

As he took hold of the person, Tinky's words registered and he froze. There was only one person who would call his house elf.

_Hermione._

It was the first time he'd referred to her by her first name, mentally or otherwise, but he couldn't stop himself. Here was his apprentice, his friend, who'd been spending her summer on the streets of her small hometown, beaten and broken in his arms.

Severus quickly dismissed the elf and took Hermione into her room. He rid her of her clothing, staring in horror at what he saw. She was black and blue, and it sounded like she was struggling to breathe.

He ran to his supply of healing potions in his room and brought the whole kit. After some diagnostic spells, he began healing her injuries. First were the ribs; one of them had punctured a lung and she would die if that wasn't addressed sooner rather than later. After that came her head injury; she was bleeding from her right temple. He fixed her nose, and moved down to her center. She had been raped, and he needed to fix what internal damage he could. Severus took his wand and murmured a healing spell. Next came the bruises. He wasn't sure he had enough Bruise Salve, but he managed to cover all of her bruises with the paste.

A warm washcloth was run across her face and the inside of her thighs, wiping away her blood. She looked better, but he knew that this would be hard for her emotionally. She'd lived with her father doing similar things to her, and she'd just had to go through it again.

Severus found some of her pajamas and put them on her before tucking her into bed. He would stay with her tonight.

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><p>Hermione was lost in the darkness of semi-consciousness. Her whole body hurt, and she wanted to sleep. She could feel their arrival, and the house elf holding her almost dropped her. She was talking to somebody, but she couldn't focus enough to figure out who it was. Then she was moving. A different set of arms took her, and she knew who it was.<p>

He'd held her enough times for her to know when she was wrapped in the safe embrace of Severus Snape.

He was carrying her somewhere, and the movement made it hurt more to breathe, but that was nothing compared to what she felt as he set her down. The warmth and safety were gone, and she fell unconscious.

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><p>Severus watched over her as she slept. She was calm; he knew she had to be exhausted, and she needed the sleep to heal. He had a Draught of Peaceful Sleep ready for her if she needed it, but she'd passed out on her own.<p>

He'd had a quiet summer so far. It had been rather boring without her there, but he was managing. Severus had done a lot of reading over the past couple of weeks, and he'd been happy for the time away from the drivel of students.

As he looked at Hermione- for she was no longer 'Miss Granger' to him, and probably hadn't been for quite some time- he thought about her.

She had always been brilliant, and he'd admired her intelligence since her first year at Hogwarts. At that young age, she'd become friends with Potter and Weasley. She was probably the only reason they were alive today. He'd always questioned her taste in company since then, but she was loyal; it would take a lot for her to turn her back on a friend. He'd watched her grow up. She'd always been mature beyond her years, and there were times when it was hard to remember how young she was. As she'd grown from a girl with bushy hair and big teeth to a young woman with riotous curls and a proportional face, he'd realized how beautiful she was.

Her eyes were big and dark with intelligence. They were warm and comforting, and almost always seemed to sparkle. Freckles crossed the bridge of her nose, and her lips weren't full, but they weren't thin, either.

Looking at her now, he knew. He wanted to run his fingers softly through her thick curls; to kiss those perfect lips; to hold those small hands in his; to embrace her and pull her against his chest. He wanted to be the one who made her laugh and smile. He wanted to be the one to keep her safe. He wanted her to be his, and he wanted to be hers.

Severus Snape was in love with Hermione Granger.

With his epiphany, a small smile spread across his face. He had found someone he could love. Severus, of all people, had found someone he cared deeply about and never wanted to let go.

But his heart sank as he realized that it was hopeless. There was no way in hell she would ever feel the same way about him. He was… well, he was _him_. His skin was sallow, his hair lank from standing over a cauldron too long, his nose was hooked and far too big. Severus knew that he wasn't attractive in the least. He was damaged from years of going between two masters. His body was covered in scars, and the Dark Mark was faded on his left forearm. He wasn't good, he wasn't kind. Hermione deserved so much better than him.

As much as that train of thought hurt him, Severus knew he would still do anything for her. She needed him now. He could put his feelings aside and help her; he _would_ help her come back from this. If not for him then for her. None of this should have ever happened to her.

Severus stayed by her side all night and well into the morning. He summoned Tinky for breakfast and tea, refusing to leave her. He found a book she'd been reading on the bedside table and grabbed it, settling himself in the chair with it- it was his book, after all.

It was nearly eleven when she began to stir. She wasn't moving too much- no doubt she was still hurting- but it was enough to alert Severus. He set the book down and watched her carefully, not knowing exactly what he should do. He wanted to comfort her, but he also wanted to avoid frightening her.

Waiting until she opened her eyes, Severus cleared his throat softly. She looked up at him almost immediately.

"Professor Snape?" she asked groggily.

"I'm glad to see you're alright, Hermione. I was… worried."

He looked away quickly, so he missed her blush. _You idiot; you just called her by her first name! What are you doing? Be here for her, not for you._

"I think I'm okay. Why am I here?"

"Do you not remember what happened?" Now he was looking at her again. She'd had that head injury; what if there was memory loss?

"It's a little fuzzy, but I think I remember enough. The last thing I can recall is…" She trailed off as tears began to well up in her eyes. Severus understood. The last thing she remembered was being raped.

"You were able to call Tinky, and you asked her to bring you here."

"Oh. That makes sense. Were my injuries bad?" Hermione blushed.

"Two broken ribs, one of which punctured a lung; a head injury; your nose was broken; lots of bruising; and minor vaginal damage," he responded in a clinical tone.

She nodded her understanding, and a lone tear fell down her cheek; Severus longed to wipe it away, but stayed where he was. "So you healed me, then?"

"Yes."

"Thank you," she sighed, her blush deepening.

They sat in silence. It wasn't awkward, but it wasn't pleasant. Neither knew what to say, so they just didn't say anything. It was Hermione who broke the silence.

"Professor?"

"Yes," he answered, forcing himself to remain proper, "Miss Granger?"

"First of all, you _can_ call me Hermione, you know. But I was just wondering if… if I could… maybe talk about last night?" She finished with a shuddering breath.

Severus was glad that his earlier slip-up was forgiven, but he set that aside so he could listen.

"Of course. You know you can talk to me about anything, Hermione."

She gave a small smile at the use of her name, but it faded as she gathered her Gryffindor courage so she could tell him what happened.

When she was able to find her voice, she told him everything she could remember. What they looked like, what they did.

He was fighting off anger and rolling nausea by the end of her tale, but he hid it well; Severus was as stoic as ever. She was hiding something, though. He didn't want to push too hard, but there was definitely something that she didn't want him to know.

"Hermione, is that everything?"

She looked up at him, shame in her eyes as she shook her head slowly. He watched her worry her lip with her teeth before sighing.

"I didn't fight back. I just let it happen. All I could think about was _him_ and how fighting made it so much worse and I just gave up. I didn't even try." She was in tears again, and Severus moved from his chair to the edge of the bed. He conjured a handkerchief and wiped her cheeks, taking in what she'd just told him.

"I understand why you reacted that way, Hermione, but I don't understand why you felt as if you couldn't tell me when it was clearly bothering you."

Hermione looked away from him as she answered. "I was afraid that you'd be upset with me."

Severus was still confused. He knew that she cared what he thought of her, both as a student and as a friend, but he couldn't fathom why he'd be upset. Still sitting next to her, he reached over and grabbed her chin gently. "Hermione, look at me."

As he moved her head towards him, she met his eyes. "Why would I be upset with you?" he asked softly.

"Because I didn't try to save myself. I was willing to let whatever happened happen. I gave up. I was weak."

"No, Hermione, you weren't. I think you were right in your assessment that a fight was what they wanted, and you didn't give in to what they wanted. On top of that, you were reliving what your father did to you. You are a very strong young woman. I know you'll pull through this, I will do what I can to help you. Tell me what you need."

She looked so relieved that his heart broke a little bit for her. His opinion of her mattered more than he'd thought it did.

"Tea would be nice. Will you stay?"

"If you would like." He called Tinky for tea, and the two discussed Potions until Hermione fell asleep a few hours later.

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><p>Severus had moved back to his chair sometime that afternoon, but he didn't remember. He could only sit by her and reflect on what had come to pass. She was so important to him. There was no way he was letting her go back to living on the streets, although he was sure that, after this, she would no longer want to.<p>

He was bothered by how willing he was to let her matter to him. Severus was not a man who let people in. He wasn't kind, or sensitive, but he knew that he would do his best for her. It was what she needed

He had a feeling that it would take her time to get over this, and he was worried that it would bring on a new rush of panic attacks. Severus could only hope that this wasn't the case, but if it was, he was desperately hoping that it would be more minor attacks than major. To hear her scream out the way she had all those months ago had been devastating, and that was before he'd begun to care for her. He could only imagine how much worse it would be now that she meant so much to him.

As she slept, he went back to reading the book he'd set aside, and was soon immersed in the thick tome once more.

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><p>Severus was so focused that he didn't notice her waking up again. She sat up and carefully stretched before he saw the movement and looked at her.<p>

She threw the covers off and moved to the edge of the bed. "I need to walk; I feel like an invalid."

He couldn't help but smirk at her as she took her time standing up. She wobbled a bit, and Severus rose to assist her if she needed it. She gratefully took his arm.

"Where to?"

Hermione shrugged, so they began walking slowly in no particular direction. They left their quarters, and wandered aimlessly through the castle as they discussed topics at random. The conversation flowed from one thing to another, only to be interrupted by Hermione's growling stomach.

"Can we go to the kitchens?"

He nodded, mentally cursing himself for not asking her if she was hungry earlier. She hadn't eaten all day, and while he wasn't sure how well she ate away from Hogwarts, he was certain that she could take care of herself.

They strolled through the Great Hall and made it to the kitchens. It had become clear in the past fifteen minutes that Hermione was more than capable of walking on her own now; she was just choosing not to. Selfish bastard that he was, he let her.

Upon their entrance in the kitchens, they were greeted by a swarm of house elves. Hermione asked them for what she wanted and requested that it be sent to their rooms, and they set to work, happy to serve.

The walk back was just as slow as the rest of their 'outing,' and their banter continued, echoing through the empty corridors. She'd even managed to make him laugh (not just a chuckle); it was the first time he'd done so in her presence.

By the time they reached their quarters, the food was sitting on the table by the couch, preserved with a Stasis charm. Hermione all but threw herself down on the couch and began eating. It was clear that she was absolutely ravenous, and she had ordered plenty of food. Roast chicken, vegetables, rolls, and pudding. If he wasn't still annoyed at himself, he probably would have found it amusing.

After she'd thoroughly gorged herself, he found himself on the couch with her. They were reading together, and her legs were sprawled across his lap. At first, he'd wanted to protest, but he knew he was very unlikely to deny her anything, so he'd complied without making a fuss.

He checked his watch to find that it was approaching midnight. Severus looked over at his apprentice only to find her asleep. He chuckled to himself as her book slipped to the floor, and he marked her place before setting it on the table. As gently as he could, he scooped her up and carried her off to bed before transfiguring his chair into a twin sized bed for the night; he hadn't slept for almost two days.

It didn't take him long for sleep to find him. The night was quiet, and he was dreaming of Hermione almost immediately.

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><p><strong>AN II: First of all, I just want to thank everybody who has reviewed, followed, favorited, and taken the time to give this story a chance. I really appreciate your encouragement and support, and it definitely makes me feel better about putting myself out there like this- I'm not really the sharing type, but I had this idea that wouldn't go away, so I just went with it. I can't believe it's been six weeks already, but here we are! **

**As always, any feedback will be appreciated and taken to heart, and I'll see y'all next Wednesday!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So, remember last week when I said that the next couple of chapters would be shorter? Well, when I read back through this chapter, something just felt off, so I rewrote part of it. Now, it's the third longest chapter in the whole story so far... So, it's not a short one!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just borrowing J.K. Rowling's characters, and they will (eventually) be returned how I found them. Well, most of them...**

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><p>Hermione's injuries healed quickly, but she had fought off emotional damage during the remainder of the summer. Professor Snape had made sure that she wouldn't go back to the alley, although it really hadn't been necessary. She wasn't sure if she'd ever feel safe in her hometown again. It was an unpleasant feeling, but she decided that she wouldn't return unless it was necessary or she was visiting Emmie.<p>

So far, her panic attacks had been kept (mostly) at bay; many of the ones she had were minor, and her professor was usually able to stop them quickly. The few major ones she'd endured had been rough, but she hadn't had one since early August, and those were nearly impossible to stop. Once they started, they just had to be waited out.

She could remember the first one she'd had perfectly- it had been two days after, and it had been the longest so far.

_It was dark, and Hermione could hear her father moving through the house. He'd been out drinking again, and she knew he was going to the library for more. Sure enough, it wasn't long before she heard him pouring himself a scotch in the next room._

_Things had been awful since Emmie's death almost a year ago, but they were still getting worse. There was no longer a time during the day when her father wasn't inebriated, and he was becoming more violent every day. Just yesterday he had broken her nose, which was unusual; he usually avoided her face and other hard-to-cover areas. On top of the broken nose were the marks on her arms from where he'd grabbed her, the now-ever-present soreness between her legs, a broken toe, and the near-complete bruising of her torso that made it hurt to breathe._

_She wasn't sure how much time had passed since her father had come home, but Hermione heard him muttering to himself as he left the library. Unable to help it, she kept chanting 'Let him go downstairs' in her mind, but to no avail. Just when it sounded like he might go to bed, Hermione heard his heavy footsteps approaching her door. _

_"__Wake up, 'Mione!"_

_Lying still, Hermione hoped that he would give up and leave her alone- not that it mattered; he'd just be angrier about it when he had his way with her in the morning. Unfortunately, her father was unconvinced._

_"__Get up, you stupid girl. Come on, move."_

_Seeing that there wasn't really a way out of it, Hermione rolled over and sat up. As her eyes adjusted to the light streaming in from the hallway, a fist connected with her jaw, knocking her head back. She tasted blood where she'd bitten the inside of her cheek._

_Then she was cold. Looking down, she saw that her father had thrown the blankets from the bed and was moving so he stood next to her rather than at the foot of her bed. _

_"__Hurry up, we haven't got all night. I want to go to bed sometime tonight, you know. Don't make me do it for you."_

_With a sigh, Hermione stripped and laid on her back, waiting for her father to do as he wished. She heard his pants fall to the ground and felt the mattress dip as he sat on the edge of her bed._

_ "__Sit up, 'Mione."_

_She did as he told her, only for him to grab her arm and place her hand on his flaccid member. This was new, and Hermione had to fight the urge to pull away. Her father must have sensed her fear because his length hardened almost immediately. He moved her hand so she was stroking him, and she felt nauseous. It wasn't long before he pushed her hand away and forced her onto her back. He pushed roughly into her, and she wanted to cry out. Even though he did this on a near-daily basis, it never hurt any less. _

_Like always, she held her tears back until he was finished, only letting them fall when she was alone. She pulled her pajamas back on and found the covers on the floor. As she brought them up to her chest and flopped back down, everything changed._

_She wasn't nine years old anymore, and this wasn't her house. She was no longer in her bed. The air was warm, but the ground was still cool. Rough hands were running up and down her body, but there were four of them. Unless her father had come back to life and grown two extra hands, this wasn't him. Daring to open her eyes, she saw the tall man and the one that looked like a toad, and she remembered. Memories of her father and the attack in the alley all hit her at once._

She'd somehow been having a panic attack within a panic attack, and she felt much worse afterwards than she usually did. Coming to in Professor Snape's arms, she took stock. She was sweating and still shaking a bit, her heart was racing, she felt faint, and her stomach was also unsettled. That wasn't one of her usual symptoms, but it was the strongest. Pulling quickly away from her professor and moving as far as she could from him, she was violently ill. She didn't even notice the long, pale hand holding her hair back until it was gone and her curls hung down in her face. Drained, Hermione collapsed on the floor of the Defense classroom, reveling in how the cool stone felt on her skin. She heard the murmured cleaning spell before she was being gently lifted from the ground. Exhausted, Hermione wrapped her arms around the professor's neck as he carried her back to her bed.

Hermione hadn't been sick from any of her other attacks- thank Merlin for that- and they gradually lessened in their severity. She found herself with her professor after nearly every attack, due to the fact that he seemed reluctant to leave her on her own for very long.

The minor attacks would occur at the most random times, and she'd found blood trickling down her arm on more than a few occasions. When Professor Snape was nearby, he could help her get control fairly quickly, but most of them seemed to hit her when he was nowhere to be found. She'd felt one coming on when she was having tea with the Deputy Headmistress, and had needed to excuse herself as the older witch was mid-sentence. Hermione had rushed out of the room before McGonagall could protest, and had made it down the corridor and around the corner before she was snapping the rubber band against her skin.

She was grateful for her professor's help. After each attack she had when he was with her, he called Tinky for tea and they would sit and talk about anything until she was calm again. Hermione found herself surprised by how- well, not kind, but nearly, and patient he could be. There had been a few times when she'd dared to wonder if he returned her feelings, but quickly talked herself out of it before she could make a fool of herself.

Now, there was about left week until the new school year, and Hermione and Professor Snape had lots of work to do. They had recently started working on a potion that could protect against all three Unforgivables at once for a period of time. It was hard work, but immersing herself in the project was bringing Hermione back to herself.

It had started when she had been lost in a major attack:

_"__Crucio!"_

_The psychotic witch that was Bellatrix Lestrange had been torturing Hermione for Merlin-knew-how-long, and she wasn't showing any signs of letting up soon. She didn't know where the boys were; all she was sure of was that they were at Malfoy Manor and she was being cursed as she lie writhing and crying on the drawing room floor. _

_Hermione wouldn't break; she couldn't. It would end the lives of so many, and she kept this in mind as she held what little ground she had. She couldn't really keep her thoughts straight when she was under the Cruciatus, but she otherwise had full control of her mind. _

_She was lifted from the curse again, and Hermione was panting hard. Small tremors struck her in random places, and she was still too sore to be mortified that she'd lost control of her bladder in the last bout of cursing. _

_Preparing herself for the next round, Hermione was surprised when it didn't come. She hesitantly opened her eyes, only to find Bellatrix standing over her with a malicious smile._

_Suddenly very scared, she tried to move away from the older witch, but was stopped when Bellatrix reached out and grabbed her arm. _

_From behind her back, she produced a knife. This was it, Hermione thought. I'm going to die._

_She flinched when the cool blade first touched her skin, and screamed when the first cut was made. The cuts were small, and Hermione realized that she wasn't dying. She was being marked._

_When the deranged woman moved off of her, Hermione risked a glance at her arm and was unsurprised to see the word 'Mudblood' carved into her flesh. _

Hermione vividly remembered what the Cruciatus had felt like, and she had no desire to feel it again anytime in the near or distant future. After she had recovered, she'd had the sudden idea of the potion. She brought it up to Professor Snape a few days later and, after coming up with numerous possibilities, they began their work.

Currently, they had figured out how to counteract the effects of all three curses- which was remarkable in and of itself- and were trying to figure out how to put the effects together in one potion. While they could stop each curse individually, Hermione still wanted to find a way to do it all at once. It was taking a lot of time and research, but she knew that it could always go towards her research requirement for her apprenticeship. She had to have a project and invent her own potion. Since most of the plans had been made by her, she'd basically created three.

Hermione would be taking on first, second, and third year classes this year, and it was when she was making a lesson plan that she had the sudden realization. She was in her rooms, and she knew Professor Snape would be in staff meetings all day, but it couldn't wait.

It was exactly what the potion needed. There were ingredients between the three potions that reacted badly when combined, but they'd been unable to find anything to neutralize all of the negative effects. But, if they found a way to blend all three neutralizers into a separate potion, it should balance everything out. By combining them, they would share the preventative properties, stopping the negative reactions from the other three.

With this in mind, Hermione ran all the way from her room to the Headmaster's office, notes in hand. Professor Snape had given her the password in the event she ever needed him while he was here, so she let herself into the staircase; she was practically bouncing up and down as the stairs rotated slowly. Hermione hadn't even knocked when she heard the Headmaster's voice call out to her.

"Enter, Miss Granger."

Taking a steadying breath- which had no effects on her growing excitement- she all but threw the door open. Her eyes found her professor's almost immediately, and she was sure that she was grinning like an idiot, but she didn't care.

"What do you need, Hermione?" he asked before he could take in her expression. Once he saw her beaming at him, he raised an eyebrow curiously.

"We blend all the neutralizers together! Make them into their own potion, and blend it with the others!"

He seemed to think this over before both his eyebrows raised, almost meeting his hairline. "That is absolutely _brilliant_. By balancing the negative reactions, the final potion will be harmless while maintaining the desired effects. Hermione, do you realize what you've just done?"

She could only nod, vaguely aware that they were the only two- well, maybe Dumbledore knew- who had any idea what was going on. "I've found a way to protect one from all three Unforgivables at once for twenty-four hours."

Professor Snape rose at this, and several staff members gasped. "Twenty-four?! I thought the original plans said it would last for ten?"

"Yes, but look at this," she said as she levitated her notes to him. "When the neutralizers combine, not only does it make the final potion safe, but it also prolongs the result."

He read through her notes quickly, but she knew he was reading everything on the parchment. When he finished, he looked up at her, and a small smile graced his usually cruel face. She could see the excitement in his eyes from across the room.

Their moment was interrupted by Professor McGonagall. "What exactly is going on?"

"Professors, Headmaster," Hermione began, looking around the room, "Professor Snape and I have been working on a potion that has the ability to render the Unforgivables useless for a then-unknown period of time. After drawing up plans, it was expected to last about ten hours before wearing off, but it looks as if it will be stronger than we anticipated. After taking this potion, the consumer would be immune to any of the three curses for a full day."

There was a moment of shocked silence before commotion erupted in the office. Dumbledore looked pleased, but unsurprised; so he had been in on it. She and Professor Snape were bombarded with questions, and they answered what they could; as they hadn't tested it yet, there were still some unknowns, but it looked promising.

It was a couple of hours before the meeting ended, and Hermione and her professor made their way back to their rooms quietly, each lost in their thoughts.

"Professor Snape?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything terribly important. It just hit me, and I ran as fast as I could."

"No worries; it was just last-minute plans for the coming year. What on earth led you to such a brilliant conclusion?"

She noted the proud tone in his voice and flushed lightly. "I'm not sure. I was just writing out my lesson plan for the third years."

Professor Snape nodded as he continued thinking things through. Hermione couldn't stop smiling as she returned to her own thoughts. Neither of them spoke when they reached their rooms; they grabbed their books and ordered tea from Tinky as they settled down to read.

After reading the same sentence what must have been twenty times, Hermione closed her book and leaned against the arm of the couch, a soft sigh escaping her. She was elated; she couldn't believe that they were actually going to do it!

Knowing that all their hard work was going to pay off, Hermione laughed. It was soft at first, but she laughed harder and it was such an incredible feeling; she didn't remember the last time she'd felt so free. Eventually, tears began making their way down her face, but she didn't even care. She wasn't sure if she'd ever cried because she was happy, but it felt amazing to let it all out.

As her laughter slowly subsided, she noticed that Professor Snape was watching her over the top of his book. Smiling sheepishly, she couldn't help but blush.

"Sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It is quite alright, Hermione. It's good to see you happy."

"I am. For the first time in a very, very long time, I'm happy."

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><p>When Hermione had come rushing into the staff meeting that afternoon, his first thought was that she'd had a panic attack. But then, he'd looked at her face. It was the brightest smile he'd ever seen. Severus found himself wanting to be the one to make her smile that way.<p>

Her brilliance knew no bounds. That was all that was running through his mind when she made her announcement. She'd looked right at him and he knew that, despite there being plenty of others present, she was only speaking to him. Severus couldn't help but be proud of her. She was the most intelligent student he'd ever had, and today she had made a monumental discovery.

Yes, he was helping her with it, but it was her idea, her plan, and most of the work was hers. He'd helped when asked, and there had been many a discussion on the properties of the ingredients able to do what they needed, but this was her project.

They would start testing her hypothesis immediately. He'd told Dumbledore of her idea, and he'd been surprised; nobody had ever thought to create such a thing for one of the Unforgivables, let alone all three. The focus was always on _healing _them, not protecting against them. As they'd progressed, Severus hadn't been able to hide his pride in Hermione as he explained their work to Albus.

The Headmaster was rather impressed by the young woman. She was innovative and her mind was exceptionally sharp; if anybody was capable of doing this, it was Hermione Granger.

After the initial shock, everybody had had questions, and she'd taken it upon herself to explain. Hermione had sounded more confident than she had in a long time; it was good to see her acting more like herself.

The walk back to their rooms was pleasant. They'd both needed a little time to collect their thoughts after that afternoon.

Upon returning to their rooms, they had sat and read for a few hours, as was their routine. Severus was reading a tome about how all magic was connected in one way or another when he'd heard it.

Her laugh was beautiful. It resounded through the sitting room like a bell; soft at first, but then loud and melodious. She was freeing herself. Hermione's face had been a sight that he would never forget. There was so much light in her dark brown eyes, and the smile on her face was so open and innocent. In that moment, she was perfection personified.

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><p>The days seemed to fly by, and then students were flooding the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast. Hermione sat next to Professor Snape, and she was excited for the new school year. Professor Slughorn was relieved to be rid of almost half his classes; he was planning on going back into retirement once Hermione's apprenticeship was complete, and she would take his place.<p>

She couldn't believe that her apprenticeship was already a quarter of the way through. It had gone by so very quickly. It had been difficult in the past few months, but Professor Snape had been wonderful to her. She was feeling much more like herself, and she was much happier than she'd been at this time last year.

Hermione had learned so much in her time studying under her professor. Their potion was coming along perfectly; her idea had been successful so far, but they still needed more test subjects before it could be patented. She'd hated testing it, but it was necessary. She'd only been able to Imperio the subjects; Cruciatus was out of the question for her, and she just couldn't bring herself to use the Killing Curse. Severus had taken up testing it so she didn't have to. They were tested in that order; there was yet to be failure.

Somehow, they made time for other brewing while they focused on their potion. Hermione was now brewing almost all the potions for the Hospital Wing, and Professor Snape was still teaching her more complex potions, some of which she'd never even heard of before.

But there was that part of her that hurt when she was with him. Hermione's feelings for the dark professor hadn't gone away, they'd just grown in their intensity. She had fallen in love him.

It was difficult, but she was doing her best to push her feelings out of the way. Hermione knew how big this opportunity was, and she wasn't going to ruin it. She had to be professional. But she knew that this was only part of the reason. She was scared.

With all that she'd grown up with, Hermione had never truly allowed herself to feel anything for anybody. Compared to what she felt for Professor Snape, her feelings for Viktor and Ron were nothing. This was real and she knew it, and this absolutely terrified her. Nobody could want her. He was one of the best people she'd ever had the honor to know; he deserved so much more than a broken witch.

Well, she was slightly less broken now than she had been. He was slowly but surely fixing the mess that was Hermione Granger. She didn't know how he'd done it, but he had stepped into her life as more than just a professor and turned her life upside down- or maybe right side up.

As disappointed as the part of her that loved him was, her need for him was far greater. Professor Snape made her feel like the intelligent witch she was. Despite her baggage, he did what he could to help her, and she was happy to call him one of her best friends.

Speaking of best friends, it had been months since she'd written Harry and Ginny. Hermione felt bad that she was just now thinking about this, but she'd been so busy. She knew they'd understand; Hermione always put her education first, and they'd know that from the beginning.

Filing the thought away for later, she returned her attention to the Sorting. She'd always found it fascinating. The hat had had a hard time placing her; Hermione had an affinity for all four houses. It had placed her in Gryffindor, but just barely. It was an even tie between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, but it had sensed her strength and the underlying courage that she hid from the world.

When it was over, Hermione and Professor Snape went back to their rooms; there was a nice stack of tomes that were just asking to be read and absorbed by their sharp minds.

They were from her professor's private library, and she thought back to when he'd first shown it to her. It was in his room rather than the shared quarters, so she'd had yet to satisfy her burning curiosity. He'd simply told her he needed help grabbing a few books, and asked her to accompany him; Hermione had seen past this quickly, but didn't say anything. She followed him, and when he moved so she could see it, she had been astounded.

His library was one of the most beautiful collections she'd ever laid eyes on, and she could have stared at it all night if he hadn't cleared his throat and teased her before they got what they'd come for.

Now she had access whenever she wanted. The castle had accommodated by providing a door straight from her room to his. They had both been surprised by this, but neither protested. Hermione was to knock first, of course, and the library was all she had access to; that suited her just fine, as she'd never have expected otherwise. But that was one of the things she loved about him. He always seemed to know exactly what was on her mind, and he gave no more and no less. She knew that he'd never actually entered her mind; she trusted him enough to know that he would never do so without permission, and maybe not even then.

After poring through the books until nearly one in the morning, the two said their goodnights and went to bed, ready for the new school year awaiting them.

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><p><strong>AN II: All feedback is greatly appreciated; please let me know what you thought! See y'all next Wednesday!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Again, I've gone back and fixed this one, so it isn't really short anymore:) Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I'm just playing on J.K. Rowling's playground!**

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><p>The first month-and-a-half of the year had gone by without a hitch. Hermione's classes were excellent, and most of the work she'd graded thus far had been considerably better than the previous year's.<p>

It was now mid-October, and Hermione hadn't had a panic attack for nearly a month. She was doing better than she ever had been. As she marked her first years' essays, her thoughts wandered to her birthday the a few weeks ago.

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><p>It was a Saturday, so she'd had a lie-in. Hermione hadn't had one in far too long, and it felt wonderful. She hadn't gotten out of bed until nearly noon, and when she entered the sitting room, she found a small package with a rolled up parchment next to it.<p>

Hermione unrolled it slowly, knowing who it was from before she looked at the familiar spiky script.

_Hermione,_

_It has come to my attention that today is your birthday. Enjoy, and have a good day. I'll see you around six; I've gone to Hogsmeade for the day. Happy birthday, Hermione._

_Severus_

She'd had to read his name about six times before it registered. He wanted her to start calling him by his first name. Hermione knew that this represented his trust and respect for her, and her heart swelled at the thought.

Then she remembered the package and picked it up gently. It was wrapped delicately in sapphire-blue paper that sparkled when it hit the light in just the right way. She considered keeping it wrapped just so she could keep looking at it, but her curiosity got the best of her. Again.

Hermione tore the paper away and found a box. It was intricate and ornate and absolutely beautiful. It was made of stained glass, and the plate tracery was delicate. The glass formed flowers of all sorts around the box in a variety of colors that changed constantly. It appeared to be shimmering, and she could only sit and stare at it before she thought to open it.

Inside the box was another piece of parchment, and it was much smaller than the first. She took it from the box and read it. There was an address she wasn't familiar with and a time.

She couldn't help but grin like an idiot for the rest of the day, but it was allowed since it was her birthday.

When it was a quarter to six, Hermione grabbed the parchment and apparated to the address he'd left her.

It was a park, and she was standing at the front gates. The playground was in poor shape, but the woodsy area surrounding it was beautiful. The trees were tall, and they were spread so that their branches created a canopy overhead, and Hermione could hear water moving somewhere in the distance. As she walked farther into the trees, she came across floating candles. They formed a circle around a small patch of grass, and there was a blanket awaiting her with a basket. She approached it quietly with a smile on her face. The whole thing was absolutely beautiful, but then she realized she was alone. She checked her watch; it was only five till.

Hermione sat on the blanket and noticed that, next to the basket, were a few books and a lone iris. She'd always thought they were beautiful; she loved the sharp contrast of the colors, which made her think of Emmie. Picking up one of the books, she laughed out loud when she saw that it was _Hogwarts: A History_. She flipped through it affectionately; this had been a big part of her introduction to the Wizarding world, and she'd come to love the book dearly.

"Hello, Hermione."

Her head snapped up and she smiled at Profess- Severus. That would take some getting used to.

"Hello, Severus. This is lovely; thank you so much!"

"I'm glad you like it. This is the park where I spent much of my childhood. I remember spending many afternoons in this very spot."

Hermione certainly hadn't been expecting that, but she didn't say anything about it. She didn't want him to shut down because she couldn't control herself; she knew this was probably hard for him.

"It is a beautiful park. I understand why you came here so often. It's the perfect place to curl up with a book," she said, indicating the well-loved tome on her lap. He smirked at her before joining her on the blanket.

They enjoyed a dinner of cheese and crackers, fruit, and small sandwiches from the kitchens. The conversation flowed as easily as it ever did between the two of them, and soon they had finished eating. Severus told her a bit about his childhood. She knew it hadn't been good, but he'd never really opened up to her.

"I grew up not too far from here, in a small, impoverished neighborhood. It was bad enough before the mill shut down, but after that, it went to absolute shit. My father had always been resentful of our magic, and he would often take it out on us by means of a thorough beating. Before I started at Hogwarts, my mother would heal me after Father had gone to bed, but that all changed after I got my letter. The beatings became more severe and occurred more often. Mother really gave up then, and she sank deeper into her depression each year; she had to put up with her husband all alone for nine months. When I returned for the summer, my father's anger was redirected to me. Those three months that spent at home were awful, but they were only as bad as my nine months at Hogwarts. The Marauders were as brutal as Father, even if it was in a different way. You see, my father would lose himself in his drink- much like yours- and that fueled his anger. The Marauders didn't need that, or any substitute. Their immediate hatred of me was enough for them.

"To be fair, Black was far worse than the others. Potter- arrogant arsehole he may have been- saved my life once; Lupin's condition wasn't technically his fault, but I do still hate werewolves; Pettigrew wasn't even really part of the group. I think they used him, and he was so desperate that he went along with it without complaint.

"Did you ever know why, exactly, I hated Black so much?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Well, you know that while Lupin was a student, Albus would send him to the Shrieking Shack for his transformations. I had seen him and the others leaving the castle and crossing the grounds once a month for the entire school year, and knew that they were hiding something. Let's just say that I was determined to learn what their secret was, and Black found me on a day of the full moon. He told me that if I wanted to know what they were hiding, all I had to do was get past the Whomping Willow by pressing the knot. That night, I crossed the grounds, ready to catch them in whatever they could possibly be doing, when Potter intercepted me. He was eventually able to stop me from going through with it, but only after I discovered Lupin's lycanthropy.

"By the time I made it back to the castle, I was more than a little shaken, and somehow ended up in the infirmary. The Headmaster came to visit me in the morning, and he made me promise not to say anything, or he would erase the event from my memory.

"So, Black got off with a single detention, the rest of the Marauders went free, and I was given a month of detentions with Filch, as well as a nice mental scarring. Needless to say, my hatred for the Marauders grew, and I was immersing myself further into the Dark Arts. I think you know enough to piece together the rest of the story."

Hermione placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and squeezed before pulling away, turning her head to hide her blush.

After he finished speaking, they packed up and left the park. Severus offered Hermione his arm as he escorted her through the streets of his childhood town. Cokeworth, while small, was like an older version of Hermione's home.

They had been talking freely as they walked, but Severus led them around a corner and slowed. Their conversation all but ended as he led her to his old home. He'd given up ownership of it long ago, but he could still show her where he'd grown up. As hard as it was for him, Severus knew that he wanted to open up to her as she had to him.

It wasn't much to look at. The house was small and still in shambles, even now that it was in new hands. The yard was unkempt and the paint was peeling off, but it was easily the nicest home on the street. Once the mill had closed, the neighborhood had just fallen apart.

He didn't look at Hermione's face as she took in his childhood home. Severus was afraid that he'd see pity on her face, and he hated being pitied. She was quiet, though, and this worried Severus. Risking a look at her, he saw that she had turned to face him. There was nothing but understanding in her eyes. She knew that this was difficult, and she wasn't taking this lightly.

At the same time, she felt even more connected to him. Here they were, two damaged souls, standing in front of a place of pain and hardship for Severus. Hermione hated that he'd been abused as a child; she knew better than anybody else that it just shouldn't happen.

They didn't stay long. When they Apparated back to Hogwarts and went back to their rooms, Hermione released Severus' arm and looked up at him. She smiled and hugged him softly.

"Thank you, Severus. This has been the best birthday I've ever had."

It wasn't surprising to feel him stiffen in her embrace, but she soon felt a tentative pair of arms wrap around her.

"It was my pleasure, Hermione. It is late; you should go to bed. Sleep well."

"You too, Severus."

* * *

><p>Hermione finished marking the last of the essays that needed to be returned tomorrow and retired to their sitting room. Severus wasn't back yet; he'd had a meeting with Dumbledore. She made tea and stretched out on the couch, picking up the first book her hands found. It was <em>Hogwarts: A History<em>.

She sat and read the book for what must have been the hundredth time. She was just finishing the section describing Hogwarts' elemental magic when Severus walked in. He looked tired. Hermione summoned the kettle and poured him a mug, fixing it how he liked before handing it over to him. She moved so she was no longer taking up the entire couch in an invitation for him to join her, which he did gratefully. Severus took the mug from her, smirking when he saw what she was reading. Hermione rolled her eyes at him as she grabbed his book from the table and tossed it at him, hitting the arm that wasn't holding his tea.

He shot her a glare, but she could tell that there was no malice behind it, so she grinned at him. This made his glare darken slightly before it was replaced by a small smile of his own.

They sat side-by-side and got lost in the words on the pages before them, ignoring the clock until Hermione's eyes began drooping. Severus somehow noticed this and sent her of to bed, retiring to his own room. She complied without a fight, so tired that she just threw herself into bed and fell asleep before remembering to silence her room.

_They were in the Shrieking Shack. It was the night of the Final Battle, and she, Harry, and Ron were hiding and watching Voldemort confront Severus. As he went on, Hermione connected the dots and she gasped loudly. The Dark Lord stopped talking abruptly, and she knew she'd given them away. Hermione was able to Disillusion her friends and got them to run, telling them she'd be right behind them. Ron had to get Harry to safety. She was expendable. And, most of all, she didn't want Severus to die. _

_Voldemort rounded the corner quickly, obviously hoping to catch her off guard. She'd been waiting for him, though, wand at the ready. He cast a nonverbal Expelliarmus, and her wand flew from her hand to his. He was smiling madly at her, and she was suddenly terrified as all of her Gryffindor courage left her._

_"__Well, it's the Mudblood! What a lovely surprise!"_

_Hermione winced at the sound of his voice; the rasp was unnatural and reptilian, just like him. Voldemort looked at her for a long moment, and then she could practically see the light bulb turn on. Whatever it was he was planning, Hermione hoped it'd be over soon. _

_He trained his wand on her and murmured, "Imperio."_

_Caught unaware, he forced his way into her mind. She tried to put her shields up, but he was too strong; he just tore them down time and time again. In her head, he rasped, "I want you to kill Severus, little Mudblood." The small part of her mind that was still her was fighting as hard as it could, but it was no use. Voldemort was pressing her wand into her hand ad she was walking towards her professor._

_"__Hermione?"_

_She raised her wand and, with no inflection in her quiet voice, cast the Killing Curse, ending Severus' life. As soon as it was done, she was released. Hermione looked at what she'd done in horror. She knelt down beside him and ran her fingers through his hair as she sobbed for him. The guilt was overwhelming, and she stood to face Voldemort, but he was gone. It was just her and the dead professor._

* * *

><p>Severus woke with a start to agonized screaming that night. He sat up in bed, trying to figure out what it was when he realized it was Hermione. Running to the door that connected their private rooms, he threw it open and ran into the room.<p>

She was thrashing around in her bed, and she was drenched in sweat. He pulled the covers off of her and knelt beside the bed, trying to avoid being hit in the face. Pinning her arms down with one hand and running his fingers through her hair with the other, he tried to wake her.

"Hermione, wake up. It's just a dream; you're safe. It's alright, it's okay."

It was a good five minutes of his murmuring that eventually brought her out of her nightmare. Her eyes fluttered open and Severus released her arms, but kept running his fingers through her dark curls. She turned her head to look at him and burst into tears. Severus could only pull her into his arms and hold her as she cried.

After a while, she pulled away, but not enough to separate them. "You're alright!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

He was taken aback, but held her once more. "Hermione, why wouldn't I be? Was it your nightmare?"

Severus felt the witch nod against his chest, and she explained what she'd dreamed of. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. Why was she so distressed? They were friends, but surely this was an overreaction. Nobody had cared this much about the prospect of his likely death.

"I don't understand. Why are you so upset, Hermione?"

This time she pulled away completely, sitting up. She stared at him, and he could see emotions warring on her face. Hermione took a few deep breaths before she spoke.

"Severus, how could I not be? You have done so much for me, and I'll never be able to thank you enough. Never before have I been able to say that I feel completely safe, but, with you, I do. I trust you whole-heartedly. I respect you far more than you'd ever believe. You, Severus Snape, are a wonderful man, and you deserve the second chance the war's end has given you.

"I really don't know where I'd be without you. Life hasn't been kind to either of us, but maybe things are changing. I have you. You certainly have me- you know that, don't you? But it's more than that.

"This has taken me a long time to come to terms with, but I promise you that it was by no means unwelcome. I'm absolutely terrified, but I trust you. Severus, I'm in love with you."

He could only sit there, shell-shocked, as what she said sank in. _She loved him. She loved him!_

She was looking down at the sheets, clearly afraid of his response. Severus gently cupped her face in his hands as he looked into her deep brown eyes. He searched for a sign that it wasn't true, but there was none. She meant it. He pulled her towards him and touched his lips lightly to hers.

It was a soft and gentle kiss, and it ended far too soon for Severus, but he pulled away slowly, wiping tears from her face with his thumbs.

"Hermione, you have become very important to me in these past months. When I found you that day in the corridor, I never would have expected this. I took you on as my apprentice with hopes that you would become the next great Potions Mistress, and I'm sure that you will, but as I came to know you, things changed. You are intelligent, strong, and beautiful. You are kind, brave, and loyal. I have grown to enjoy spending time with you, seeing that lovely smile, hearing that musical laugh. You, Hermione, are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you, as well."

Severus hadn't meant to say all that, but once he'd started he was unable to stop. Seeing the happiness and love on her face was definitely worth it, though, and he soon found himself with his arms full of a crying witch, who was kissing him with enough force to knock him nearly breathless. Her tears fell from her cheeks onto his, and all he could do was hold her closer and kiss her with equal fervor.

They were unaware of how much time had passed, but it didn't matter. Severus rose after they'd broken apart, not wanting to leave but needing to go back to bed. He kissed the top of her head before turning back to go back to his room.

"Goodnight, Hermione. I will see you later this morning."

His hand had just touched the knob when she called out to him.

"Severus, will you stay?"

He turned and faced her. Severus was hesitant, but he gave in and climbed into bed with her. She snuggled into his chest, her ear just over his heart, and he wrapped a long arm around her. They drifted off into a peaceful sleep, kept safe by their embrace.

* * *

><p><strong>AN II: Well... It finally happened! I was so happy to start writing this part; I'm super excited that they finally saw sense and got together:) Oh, and i****f you guys wouldn't mind, I've recently started posting my second story, _Natural Disaster_, and I would love it if y'all would check it out! Thanks in advance!**

**Anyway, all feedback is appreciated, and I'll see you guys next week!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: A huge thank you to all of you for sticking with me so far! I really appreciate your support:)**

**Warning: Lemon ahead (towards the end... it's more intimate than graphic, really, but here's a warning just in case).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything; I'm just playing on J.K. Rowling's playground!**

* * *

><p>Hermione woke to find herself wrapped in somebody's arms, confused until she remembered the events of last night.<p>

_Severus._

She turned over so she was facing him. He was so calm when he slept; he looked as if he'd never been bothered by a thing in the world. It was nice to see him this way, but she desperately needed the loo.

Trying to extricate herself from his grasp, she slipped out from under his arm and pulled her legs away, only to have her foot caught in the duvet. Hermione fell to the floor with a slight thump, but it was enough to wake Severus. He sat up abruptly, looking around as he realized where he was.

When he saw her on the floor, he rose to help her up, smirking at her all the while.

"Good morning, Hermione."

She was pleased to hear the humor in his deep voice, even if it was at her expense. "Good morning, Severus," she answered as she stood on her toes to kiss him. Remembering why she was out of bed in the first place, she went into the bathroom to complete her morning ablutions.

It was a bright Thursday morning, so Hermione had classes all day, while Severus had the morning off. She rushed to make sure everything was in order before exiting her bedroom to find Severus, who was sitting on the couch with a stack of parchments, quill in hand. His trademark scowl was already in place, and Hermione couldn't help but walk up behind him and run her fingers through his dark hair. He leaned into her touch and tilted his head back; she knew what he wanted and happily obliged.

Their kiss was slow and sweet, a promise of what was to come. In that moment, they were the only two people in the world. Knowing she had to eat before she went to Professor Slughorn's, Hermione called Tinky for whatever was being served at breakfast for the two of them. She still didn't like using the house elf, but didn't want to hurt the poor thing's feelings. _Oh, well. We can't have everything._

Or maybe they could, she mused as she looked at her wizard. She'd wanted this for so long, and now she had him and it was wonderful.

After breakfast, he wished her a good day, and she left for the dungeons. The morning classes were simple, and nothing went awry, so she was still in a good mood when she went to lunch in the Great Hall. Her smile only brightened when she saw Severus waiting by the door for her. He offered her his arm and escorted her to their seats.

He told her about his morning, and she was excited to learn that he'd found two new test subjects for their potion. If all went well, they would only need three more successful trials before it could be deemed successful and they could patent it.

As she was still his apprentice, she gave him a report on how her classes were going. Severus was proud of her; she was moving quickly through her work, and she was now almost a month ahead. He couldn't have asked for anyone better.

Last night had been incredible. Hearing her say those three words to him had nearly made his heart stop. Severus hadn't loved anybody since Lily, and now he realized that it hadn't even been love. He'd been infatuated. Lily Evans had been the first person to show him kindness, and he'd latched on for dear life. When she'd abandoned him in his moment of darkness, it had felt as if everything had shifted. His lifeline was gone, and he was truly on his own.

He had led a dark life, and had eventually been placed between two masters. It had been a painful twenty years, but at least it was over.

Severus was finally living his own life. He had a job, a home at the castle, and now he had a witch. He'd long since given up any hope that he'd find somebody who wanted anything to do with his damaged soul, but he'd found a kindred spirit in Hermione. They were slowly healing each other.

* * *

><p>The next couple of months passed slowly. Severus and Hermione were happy together, and they were learning how to open up and be with another person. They would still sit and read every night, but now Hermione was curled against him instead of on the other side of the couch. Crookshanks often joined them, making himself comfortable on her stomach or Severus' lap. When they brewed together, they were still oblivious to the world around them, but now they were totally aware of each other. Every banter ended with a kiss or three. All was well.<p>

They had visited Emmie last month, performing the same ritual as last year, but this time Severus stayed with her and held her hand; when she'd started to cry, he pulled her onto his lap and rocked her.

More test subjects had been found for their potion, and they hadn't had a single failure in any of the fifty trials. It had been patented, and would begin to sell at the beginning of the New Year. That had filled the research requirement for her apprenticeship, so now she was beginning to take on the fourth years.

The first year of her apprenticeship had come and gone, and she'd progressed wonderfully. Hermione had learned how to brew more potions than she'd ever know what to do with. Her teaching was still going well, but it was definitely getting harder. With all the work she did for the infirmary, it was hard to find time for all the marking sometimes, but she managed. She knew it was worth it.

She and Severus now shared a bed every night. The nightmares were still occurring, but they weren't nearly as bad as they had been, even after they'd improved the first time. Hermione could now go a few nights without one, and the ones she had were still lessening in their intensity. There had been a few nights when she'd woken to Severus holding her tightly against his chest, murmuring in her ear, but it had been awhile.

He had nightmares, too. Some nights, she heard him calling out in his sleep as he became soaked with sweat. She woke him as he did her, and he would calm quickly after he was awake. He'd explained that he had been having them for nearly two decades, but that didn't take any of the pain away. Hermione wished there was more she could do, but settled with knowing that she could be to him what he was to her.

Now, Christmas was fast approaching. Their quarters had been thoroughly decorated, as neither had ever had reason to celebrate the holidays before. The tree sat near the fireplace, and it was decorated with ornaments of silver and icy blue. Each had a stocking on the mantle, and Hermione had managed to find an advent calendar. They had shared each piece of candy as they counted the days until their first Christmas together.

Severus had found some Muggle twinkle lights, charming them to work without electricity so that their tree was enveloped in a soft glow. It was… well, magical. When Severus wasn't looking the night they'd decorated, Hermione had found some mistletoe and put it over his bedroom door. When he'd declared it time for bed, she trailed behind him with a small smile. It hadn't taken him long to realize what was going on when he couldn't move, and he had looked up almost immediately.

She had laughed, and stayed just far enough away that she wasn't affected, earning herself a glare.

"Did you need something, Severus? You're just standing there scowling at me," she'd asked with a hint of her laughter still in her voice.

At this, Severus had rolled his eyes and held his hand out expectantly. She took it and stepped under the mistletoe, and he'd kissed the living daylights out of her.

Hermione had put a lot of thought into what she should give Severus for Christmas. He had almost any book imaginable. There wasn't anything she could get him that was potions-related. He'd already replaced the robes she'd set on fire during her first year. He had everything.

But, then again, he didn't. Neither of them had any good Christmas memories. She'd followed this train of thought until she knew exactly what she was going to do for him. It was perfect! All she needed was some soft blankets, Tinky, and her wizard.

* * *

><p>Severus was truly enjoying the holiday season for once in his life. Their quarters were beautiful, and decorating had actually been... fun. He still felt as if he were completely out of his realm, but Hermione didn't seem to mind. He knew that, with Hermione, he could definitely get used to this.<p>

As soon as she'd mentioned that they could spend Christmas together, he'd jumped at the opportunity. He'd always been slightly jealous of all the stories he heard about nice holidays spent with family. At Spinner's End, Christmas had been dismal at best and painful at worst.

He knew exactly what to get Hermione. Once he'd thought of it, it made perfect sense, and it was almost painfully obvious. He couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Hermione was so unbelievably happy. It warmed his heart to see how far she'd come. The last panic attack had been before the day of her sister's death. It was milder than the one she'd had last year, for which he was relieved. He never wanted to see her in as much pain as the severe attacks caused her again.

In the past couple of months, the staff had slowly realized that Severus and Hermione were together. Albus, Minerva, and Poppy were elated, although Minerva did warn him that if he hurt her cub, he'd be very sorry before turning to say something along the same lines to Hermione. Nobody was really surprised; they had been expecting it for months.

None of them knew anything about what Hermione had lived through before Hogwarts- other than Minerva and Albus, but they knew very little- but most of them were aware of what had happened over summer. All they knew for sure was that Severus was much more pleasant now than he'd ever been, and they were glad to see him happy.

At breakfast last Tuesday, an owl had dropped a rolled up parchment onto Hermione's plate before taking the bit of sausage she offered. He'd watched her read it cautiously, and had breathed a sigh of relief when a smile broke out on her face.

"It's a save-the-date. Harry and Ginny are to be married in February. I'm so happy for them! You'll come with me, won't you, Severus?"

He really couldn't say no when she looked at him like that; her dark eyes were sparkling and she was beaming at him hopefully. It was rather unfair.

"Of course, Hermione, if you wish."

Her smile only brightened as she leaned across to kiss his cheek before rushing off to respond to the invitation.

He was caught off guard by her boldness, but it warmed his heart to know that she didn't care who knew that they loved each other. That annoyingly insecure part of him had been worried that she'd be ashamed of him, but she'd made it known very quickly that this was not the case. The morning he'd voiced such concerns, she'd stopped him before they entered the Great Hall and kissed him chastely full on the mouth before taking his hand and acting as if the students weren't staring at them with their mouths wide open.

At first, public displays of affection had made him very uncomfortable, and he knew that Hermione felt the same way about being gawked at, but they were both so insecure that they knew they needed to do it for each other- and for themselves, as well. He could see her confidence growing almost daily and, if he were honest, he felt as if his was, too. Now they were so used to holding hands around the castle or sharing a small kiss before classes that it felt as if they'd been doing it forever. Students had stopped taking interest after a few weeks, and they were left in peace.

* * *

><p>Today was the last day of term; the students would be mostly gone from the castle by five o'clock that evening.<p>

The day seemed to rush past them, and before they knew it, Severus and Hermione were back in their quarters, curled up on the couch together while they read. Feeling a bit bolder than usual, Hermione closed her book and set it on the table before taking Severus' and doing the same. He looked at her curiously as she pulled away, only for her to crawl into his lap and, straddling him, begin kissing him tenderly.

Severus cupped her face in both hands as he returned the kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers twined into his hair, pulling him closer. Then she was deepening the kiss. He let her keep control, knowing that intimacy was a difficult thing for her. As their kiss gentled, she pulled her head back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes.

"Severus, I love you."

"And I you, Hermione."

Their foreheads touched, and he could feel her warm breath on his face.

"I want you, Severus."

As much and as long as he'd wanted to hear those words, Severus knew he had to make sure that she was ready, even if they took it slowly. He had to slowly introduce her to how it should be.

For her part, Hermione wasn't sure how much she could do. She really wanted to be with him in all the ways she could, but she didn't think she could do it quite yet.

"We'll take it slowly, love. Come with me?"

She nodded wordlessly and took his offered hand as he led them to her room.

When they were sitting on the bed together, Hermione moved towards him, taking his face in her small hands as she kissed him. While her previous kisses had been soft and gentle, this one was hungry.

Hermione could tell that Severus was allowing her to set the pace, and she had complete control of the situation. If she wanted to stop at any time, she knew he would let her. He wasn't like her father; he would never force himself on her.

With this in mind, Hermione's fingers found the buttons of his white shirt and she started undoing them with shaky fingers; whether she was shaking from nerves or anticipation, she couldn't be sure. It was probably both. Eventually, his shirt fell from his body and landed in a small heap on the floor. Hermione pulled away to look at him.

He was beautiful. Severus was thin, but muscles could be seen underneath. She knew how those strong arms felt around her; his heartbeat was almost as familiar to her as her own; his form was solid and reassuring in its stability. Little scars could be seen coving him, but they were just a part of the wondrous being that was Severus Snape.

She began running her hands timidly across his chest, reveling in the feel of his soft skin marred by the scars against her fingers. There was the faint dusting of black hair trailing down his pale body, and she followed it from his chest down to where it met his trousers. Their eyes met, and he silently asked her permission to remove her shirt.

She nodded, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. He would be able to see _her_ scars now. The word carved into her left arm- which, until now, had been hidden by a glamour- the long scar going down her upper arm and the stab wound on her side from her father, what small marks the rubber band left on her right arm, and the long scar that stretched from her left shoulder to her right hip, courtesy of Dolohov. But, she reminded herself, he's already seen them.

He pulled her shirt over her body slowly, leaving her in her bra and jeans. His eyes took in what he could see of her form. The night she'd been brought to him, he had seen her, but he'd been trying to maintain her modesty; he hadn't really looked at her, focusing instead on her injuries. Like him, she was scarred, but not as badly. He reached behind her and found the clasp of her bra, again looking at her for permission before proceeding. Soon it joined their shirts on the floor.

"Hermione, you're absolutely beautiful."

She couldn't help but blush, but she was unable to keep from covering herself. Severus, sensing her discomfort, reached out and took her left hand. Keeping his eyes on her face, he moved his hand so that his fingers brushed against the last letters of her scar. Still watching her, Severus brought her arm to his lips and kissed the denouncement her wrist. She was still tense, so he continued to move his lips softly down her arm until he reached the end of the marking. He pulled away, but only so he could move to reach her upper arm.

He gave each of her scars the same attention, until he reached the one on her torso. Sure to stop before he reached her breasts, Severus kissed his way down her clavicle. His fingers moved lightly from her hip to her waist, still carefully avoiding touching her breasts.

Keeping his walls down so she could see what he felt- awe, nervousness, love- Severus kept his eyes on his witch's. He knew she needed reassurance that her scars were just another part of her, and in no way did they take away from her beauty.

Hermione, now aware that there wasn't a thing that she needed to hide from Severus, pressed into him and they kissed languidly, laying down and gasping as they felt warm skin meet warm skin for the first time.

"Touch me, Severus."

Hesitating for only a moment, Severus was happy to oblige. Her breasts were warm and soft in his palms. His thumb rubbed tentatively over a hardened nipple, and she pulled in a breath, arching into his touch. Encouraged, Severus continued his ministrations while kissing his witch. His lips moved to her jaw, trailed down her neck, and found her chest. He lavished one breast with his mouth before giving the other equal attention, kissing, licking, and suckling gently. Hermione was moving and moaning softly underneath him, subconsciously rubbing her center on his thigh.

Severus came up from her chest and planted another kiss on his witch's lips. He then kissed down her body. His mouth followed the line crossing her torso, and she let out another moan; it was sensitive. When he reached the waistline of her jeans, he looked up to her again. She nodded quickly this time, lifting her hips as he unfastened her pants. Now she was left in her lacy dark blue knickers.

"Your turn, Severus."

He looked confused for a moment before understanding. Rising, he undid his trousers before rejoining her in his black boxers. Severus' hands moved up and down Hermione's body as he pulled her in for another hungry kiss. His self-control was beginning to slip; if they went much farther, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop.

"Hermione, I need to know if you want to stop, because with much more of this, love, I won't be able to."

"Please, Severus, I need you."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I love you."

"As I love you, Hermione."

And with that, he pulled her knickers from her and removed his boxers. They were as exposed as could be with one another, and it felt right.

He was hesitant, not wanting to go too fast, but Hermione cupped his cheek and brushed his hair from his face.

"It's okay, Severus. I'm ready. I trust you."

Severus kissed her tenderly before complying. His hand reached down to her slick folds and found her clitoris, circling it with his thumb as a long finger slipped inside her entrance.

She gasped and bucked her hips into his hand. He found a slow and steady rhythm, and it wasn't long before she was coming undone beneath him, shouting his name in pleasure. He watched her climax, slightly bewildered by the sight before him. Her mouth hung slack in ecstasy, her eyes open and rolling back slightly. The dark curls he had come to love were thrown across the pillow, and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And then, to hear her shout his name… he could have fallen over the edge right then and there.

Hermione was recovering from her first orgasm, panting heavily. She found Severus' hand (not the one that had just exited her body) and squeezed. He returned the gesture, bending to kiss her again. It was Hermione who pulled away, looking into those deep, dark eyes that entranced her whenever she saw them.

"Severus, please."

He chuckled darkly at her urgency, but murmured a contraceptive spell before moving to position himself at her center. He kissed her again as he slowly moved into her, stopping to give her time to adjust. She gasped against his lips as he entered her. Then he was all the way in, and she'd never felt so complete. She bucked against him, urging him to move. Severus pulled back slowly before meeting her again, setting a slow and gentle pace.

Hermione had never known that it could feel like this. With her father and the men in the alley, she'd only been caused pain, but this was incredible. She now understood why it was called "making love." They were together as one.

With Severus, Hermione felt such an intense pleasure; she never wanted it to end. She began moving her hips to match his thrusts, and he slowly began to quicken his movements. They were both making incoherent noises, and Hermione couldn't tell what sounds came from who. All thought fled her mind as she started moving towards her peak, and she could only hold the man she loved even tighter.

"Severus…"

And then her climax was pulsing through her, pleasure crashing over her in waves. Severus wasn't far behind, and as he released inside her, he moaned her name into the room.

He collapsed above her, keeping most of his weight on his arms so he didn't crush her. Severus pulled out slowly and rolled to lay beside her, pulling her to his chest. Exhausted, they fell into a pleasant and sated sleep.

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><p><strong>AN II: ****Alright, well, I hope I did it justice! I've never written a lemon before, and I did my best. **

**Also, we're at 8,500+ views now... Y'all are amazing. Thank you so much! **

**Any and all feedback is appreciated- I'm always looking to grow as a writer. Until next week:)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: You know the drill... I don't own anything, so let's get on to the story, shall we?**

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><p>Severus woke first and, as he laid with his witch against his chest, he thought back to the night before. It had easily been one of the best nights of his life. Hermione was magnificent; how he'd been lucky enough to find such a witch, he'd never know.<p>

She began to stir as he held her, and she looked at him with a sleepy smile.

"Morning," she yawned.

He smirked and kissed the top of her head in response. Severus called Tinky and asked for breakfast in bed, and the house elf looked at them happily before disappearing.

Soon, breakfast appeared- sans elf- and the two ate, enjoying their lazy morning. They eventually dressed and went into the sitting room to read where they could sit by the fire and look at the tree. Hermione was laying with her head on Severus' lap, and he ran his fingers through her hair while they read.

After it'd been a couple of hours, Severus asked Hermione if she was ready for lunch. He didn't get a response, and he looked down at her face. She had fallen asleep, and her book was slowly slipping to the floor. He caught it and set it down. Raising his hand, the soft blanket from her room appeared in his hand, and he wrapped it around her before going back to his book.

When Hermione opened her eyes, she only saw white. Confused, she moved her head, and she realized that she was looking at Severus. She'd fallen asleep on his lap. He was reading, but looked down when her stretch got in his way.

"Hello, again," he said softly before bending down to plant a kiss to her forehead. She smiled, sitting up so she could kiss him properly.

"Severus?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Thank you."

He didn't quite understand what she was thanking him for. All he'd done was… oh.

"Anytime, Hermione," he answered with a wry smile.

"Like now?"

He caught the mischievous glint in her eye, and suddenly vanished their clothing. She didn't hesitate as she straddled him, kissing him fiercely.

Severus was hard almost instantly, and he laid Hermione down on the couch. Last night, they'd been slow and languid, but now they were fueled by carnal desire. It was fast and desperate, but just as pleasurable.

They had moved so Hermione was lying against him at some point, and she was panting as she leaned into him, resting her head on his heaving chest. She covered them with the blanket, and they watched the fire flicker, casting moving shadows around the room. They spent the rest of the afternoon in each other's arms, talking about anything and everything.

For dinner, Severus cooked them chicken and rice, baking rolls to go with it. He was a remarkable chef, and Hermione was grateful; she was useless in the kitchen. As she watched him cook, she got lost in her thoughts.

She'd written to Harry a while back, telling him about the apprenticeship and how far she'd come with her work. He was happy for her, and she promised they'd meet up at least once over break. Ginny had gotten a separate letter, explaining that she had something she needed to tell her. Hermione had spoken with Severus, and he didn't mind her telling Harry and Ginny. She just needed to talk about it; it felt wrong to bottle up so much happiness and keep it to herself.

Ginny had met her at The Three Broomsticks, and Hermione asked about the wedding planning. Her friend had gushed about the proposal, and they were really happy together. Then Ginny asked what it was Hermione wanted to talk about. Taking a deep breath, she told her about her relationship with Severus. At first, Ginny had been shocked, but then she said that it wasn't much of a surprise. She was happy for them, and hoped things went well. Ginny had also had questions about their sex life, but Hermione tried to avoid those; her intimate moments with Severus were theirs and nobody else's.

Then she'd gotten a letter from Harry. Ginny had told him everything, and he was supportive. Harry was like a brother to her, and she was more relieved than she wanted to admit that he approved. She still would have stayed with Severus, but it would have hurt to cause strain to she and Harry's relationship.

"Hermione?"

Pulled from her thoughts, she looked at Severus blankly. He rolled his eyes and smiled at her, one of the rare ones that lit up his whole face. She loved his smile, and his laugh, and everything about him, even his temper. He had yet to use it towards her, but she was ready, just in case. Hermione knew that he tended to lash out at those he cared about, and didn't want to be caught off guard.

"Dinner's ready. Where were you?"

"I was just thinking about when I saw Ginny and the first thing she wanted to know was if you were hung like a Hippogriff," Hermione answered cheekily.

An eyebrow raised at this, and she laughed lightly. She took her plate from him and they ate in a companionable silence. He hadn't made dessert, so Hermione made a suggestion and led him back to the bedroom, where they spent the next few hours enjoying _dessert_.

The next five days passed slowly. Things were quiet at the castle, and Severus and Hermione were waiting for the day they could present their gifts to each other. Both were fairly confident that they had the best idea- not that one knew that about the other. Another stack of books was plowed through, more (_lots_ more) love was made, more banter and easy conversation. It was nice, and Hermione was enjoying all the time with Severus.

Severus was also happy. This was the merriest he'd ever been around the holidays- not that anybody other than Hermione got to see it.

Now, though, it was Christmas Eve, and they were both eager for the next day. As they sat in front of the fire with cups of tea and a plate of cookies, they curled up under a blanket and just enjoyed the warmth. It was a nice evening, and soon the two were fighting to stay awake. Calling it a night, they walked hand-in-hand to Hermione's bed and just went to sleep.

Severus couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in his bed. He would go to his room to get ready for bed before joining Hermione in her room, and he had used this as inspiration for his gift to her. He just hoped it wasn't too forward.

It was just after three in the morning when Severus got out of bed. Albus would be coming shortly to help him; as current Headmaster, the castle would respond to his magic better than it would Severus' since he was a former Headmaster.

Albus had gone and gotten himself cursed by that damned ring, and then told Severus that he had to kill him when the time was right. He would know when because his _godson _of all people would be trying to do what was requested of Severus. It was outrageous! Severus saw Albus Dumbledore as a father figure of sorts; how could he ask such a thing? But then, Severus had an idea.

He could cure the curse. To keep up the illusion that the Headmaster was dying, a disguising charm would be used to make his arm appear black and dead. That would get back to the Death Eaters through his Slytherins, and no suspicion would be raised. Draco would still try to get to Dumbledore. Being the arrogant fool that he was, he would believe that Dumbledore was already dying, and wouldn't put too much thought or effort into what he was doing, even if it was for the Dark Lord. This would buy Severus time.

He had been able to brew a potion that, if he soaked his wand in it for three days, could turn what the caster said into what they actually wanted while maintaining appearances. Severus would utter the Killing Curse, but he would desire a mild Stunner. Dumbledore would fall from the tower, and apparate before he hit the ground. He would leave the Elder wand for Voldemort, and an enchanted dummy would act as his corpse.

The Headmaster had been in hiding until after the war. Their plan had worked. Once all had been revealed, all charges against Severus were dropped, and Albus was reinstated as Headmaster.

Albus stepped through the Floo quietly, not wanting to wake the witch. Severus was waiting for him in the sitting room, and he led the Headmaster to his private rooms. They worked until the sun rose, but it was finally done.

"Thank you for your assistance, Albus. I'll be sure to let you know how she reacts."

"Of course, my dear boy. I'm glad to see the both of you so happy, Severus. Have a happy Christmas."

"You, as well, Headmaster."

With that, Albus left their chambers and Severus slipped back into bed. He was feeling the drain of his magic, but it would be worth it.

He slept until he was woken inadvertently by Hermione. She woke and saw what he and Albus had done, and she was thrilled.

Hermione and Severus no longer had separate rooms. Their rooms were now one, and the space that had been his was now a library full of both their collections. It was one massive space, bedroom and library all rolled into one. She had never seen anything so beautiful, and he'd done it all for her. For _them._

She didn't even know she was crying until his fingers were wiping the tears from her cheeks. Hermione looked at her wizard and gave him a huge smile before throwing herself into his arms and kissing him with all she had. He reciprocated, and when they pulled away, they were breathing heavily.

"Merry Christmas, Hermione."

"Severus, have I ever told you that I love you?"

He gave her a small smile. "I believe you have, and I love you as well."

"You have to wait a bit for your gift. Well, the _planned _gift, at least. You can have the other now, if you want."

He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Close your eyes."

Severus did as he was asked, and was only half-surprised to feel his clothes disappear. He smirked at her, and he knew she rolled her eyes before kissing him; it was one of those things that became so familiar that he didn't need to see it to know she'd done it.

She grabbed his hands and his palms were cupping her breasts. He was tempted to open his eyes, but could sense that she had something else in mind; if he wanted to find out what it was, he had to cooperate.

It was interesting. With his eyes closed, he had to focus more on her touch, making it much more intense than it had been before.

His touches were soft and sensual, and he could feel her leaning into his hands. It didn't take long for his arousal to become apparent, and what his witch did next caught him by surprise and his eyes flew open.

Hermione's fingers were around his length, stroking it cautiously. Her eyes were shining with her burning curiosity, and he knew that she didn't quite know what to do.

"It's alright, Hermione. You know you don't have to do this."

"I want to, Severus. I just need you to tell me what to do."

"What you're doing is fine, love. Yes, just like _that_," he groaned out as she applied a little more pressure. Her pace was quickening as she became more comfortable with her exploration. Her small warm hand felt wonderful, and she was encouraged by a slight buck of his hips. While that hand moved faster still, her other moved to cup his sac gently. He sucked in a sharp breath, and she looked at him, concerned. When she saw the arousal plain on his face, she leaned forward and kissed him softly as he groaned into her mouth.

"Hermione, love, stop," he panted as he laid her down and hovered over her. She pulled his head down and their mouths met again. He slipped easily inside her, her gasps and moans stopping against his lips. It was slow and gentle, much like their first time, but his impatient witch was soon moving her hips harder as she met every thrust.

"Faster, Severus…"

Not one to disappoint, he did as she asked. Before long, she was lost in the throes of passion, and he followed soon after. They laid together, panting as they tried to regain their thoughts.

"Merry Christmas, Severus."

"So it is, Hermione, so it is."

Four o'clock couldn't come fast enough for Hermione. She'd made sure that Severus didn't eat too much throughout the day, and they enjoyed their day curled up on the couch. When it was time for them to leave, they grabbed their cloaks and walked hand-in-hand away from the castle. Hermione took his arm and Side-Along Apparated with him.

When they arrived in Severus' spot in his childhood park, he barely recognized it. Twinkle lights were wrapped around the trees, a small fire was burning near a small table with two mugs of hot chocolate. There were blankets and he could see a small bell sitting on the ground next to them. Looking down at Hermione, he couldn't help but ask.

"You did this?"

"I had help, but yes, it was me. Do you like it?"

"Beautiful," he murmured, still looking at her.

"Oh, stop that. You know that's not what I meant. Thank you, though, that was sweet."

He scoffed. "I don't think 'sweet' is a word that could be used to describe me but, to answer your question, yes, I like it, my love."

"I'm glad," she murmured as she stood on her toes so she could kiss him. As if on cue, the snow began to fall harder as they kissed, swirling around them in the most magical of ways.

They pulled apart and began walking slowly to the fire. It was then that Hermione felt something cold and wet hit her back.

"Severus Snape, did you just throw a snowball at me?" she asked with a laughingly-stern tone, her face mock-angry.

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I see. It just came out of nowhere, then?"

"Absolutely," he drawled softly.

Just as Hermione was about to respond, another one came at her. It flew up from the ground and hurtled in her direction, and it was then that she noticed his barely-moving hand. Two could play at that game.

She let him think that she would let it hit her, turning it on him at the last moment. He had recently started teaching her how to do wandless magic; she may as well practice.

Unfortunately for her, he had heard her soft command and he threw up a shield, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. She couldn't do wandless and nonverbal at the same time yet, but he was going to use that to his advantage.

Suddenly, snow was flying through the air in all directions. It seemed to be coming from nowhere, but Hermione knew better. She turned so Severus couldn't see and caught one, enlarging it and sending it his way. His eyes widened but, before it hit him, it exploded into a cloud of puffy white flakes, covering Severus.

Hermione was doubled over in laughter at the sight of Severus Snape scowling at her while he stood spotted with snowflakes. She laughed until tears came to her eyes, and then she heard Severus laughing with her. It was dark and deep and beautiful. Hermione wished he would do it more often, but at least it was just for her.

He had come to her while they laughed and embraced her. His warmth felt so nice against the cold wind. She was finally able to calm herself- he'd done so a few minutes ago- and pull his head down for a kiss. He was still covered in snow, and she brushed some of it from his hair and shoulders before taking his hand and finally leading him to the fire. They settled in amongst the many blankets with their cocoa, Hermione snuggled against his chest for more warmth.

It was wonderful. They didn't even have to say anything; it was so easy for them to just be together. At some point, she had reached into her pocket and enlarged two books, the ones they were currently reading. Neither knew how much time passed before they were interrupted by Hermione's stomach.

Severus noticed and looked up from his book. It had grown dark, but the lights on the trees kept it just bright enough to read.

"Should we return to Hogwarts? It sounds as if you are rather hungry."

She just shook her head and reached over and grabbed the little bell. She rang it twice, and two plates of food appeared before them. Beef Wellington and roast potatoes were piled onto the plates, and their mugs of cocoa refilled. How she'd known his favorite meal, he wasn't sure, but he had the feeling that she'd had the aid of a certain house elf.

"Thank you, Hermione."

"Of course, Severus. I had fun today."

"As surprised as I am to say this, I did, as well. I should throw white slush at you more often," he snarked.

"You wouldn't dare! Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you would, you amazing man."

Severus only smirked at his witch in return before kissing the top of her head.

"I love you, my little know-it-all."

"And I love you, my snarky bastard."

**A/N II: Alright, well... I can't believe it's been ten weeks already! It's gone by pretty fast. As always, all feedback is appreciated! The next chapter is probably my favorite that I've written so far:) See y'all next Wednesday!**


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